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THIRTY-ONE  YEARS  ON  THE 


OR,  THE 

LAST  VOICE  FROM  THE  PLAINS. 


\N  AUTHENTIC  RECORD  OF  A LIFE  TIME  OF  HUNTING, 
TRAPPING,  SCOUTING  AND  INDIAN  FIGHTING 
IN  THE  FAR  WEST 

BY 

CAPT.  WILLIAM  F.  DRANNAN, 

WliO  WENT  ON  TO  THE  PLAINS  WHEN  FIFTEEN  YEARS  OLD. 


COPIOUSLY  ILLUSTRATED  BY  H.  S.  DeLAY. 
And  Many  Reproductions  from  Photographs. 


CHICAGO: 

Rhodes  & McClure  Publishing  Company. 


*9->5 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1900  by  the 
Rhodes  & McClure  Publishing  Company 
in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  Washington,  D.  C. 

All  Rights  Reserved. 


PLYMOUTH 

PRINTING  & BINDING  Q[). 
CHICAGO. 


1905 

PREFACE. 


In  writing  this  preface  I do  so  with  the  full  knowledge 
that  the  preface  of  a book  is  rarely  read,  comparatively 
speaking,  but  I shall  write  this  one  just  the  same. 

In  writing  this  work  the  author  has  made  no  attempt 
at  romance,  or  a great  literary  production,  but  has  nar- 
rated in  his  own  plain,  blunt  way,  the  incidents  of  his 
life  as  they  actually  occurred. 

There  have  been  so  many  books  put  upon  the  market, 
purporting  to  be  the  lives  of  noted  frontirsmen  which  are 
only  fiction,  that  I am  moved  to  ask  the  reader  to  con- 
sider well  before  condemning  this  book  as  such. 

The  author  starts  out  with  the  most  notable  events 
of  his  boyhood  days,  among  them  his  troubles  with  «an 
old  negro  virago,  wherein  he  gets  his  reveng^  by  throw- 
ing a nest  of  lively  hornets  under  her  feet.  Then  come 
his  flight  and  a trip,  to  St.  Louis,  hundreds  of  miles 
on  foot,  his  accidental  meeting  with  that  most  eminent 
man  of  his  class,  Kit  Carson,  who  takes  the  lad  into  his 
care  and  treats  him  as  a kind  father  would  a son.  He 
then  proceeds  to  give  a minute  description  of  his  first  trip 
on  the  plains,  where  he  meets  and  associates  with  such 
noted  planismen  as  Gen.  John  Charles  Fremont,  James 
Beckwith,  Jim  Bridger  and  others,  and  gives  incidents  of 
his  association  with  them  in  scouting,  trapping,  hunting 
big  game,  Indian  fighting,  etc. 

The  author  also  gives  brief  sketches  of  the  springing 


8 


PREFACE. 


into  existence  of  many  of  the  noted  cities  of  the  West,  and 
the  incidents  connected  therewith  that  have  never  been 
written  before.  There  is  also  a faithful  recital  of  his 
many  years  of  scouting  for  such  famous  Indian  fighters 
as  Gen.  Crook,  Gen.  Connor,  Col.  Elliott,  Gen.  Whea- 
ton and  others,  all  of  which  will  be  of  more  than  passing 
interest  to  those  who  can  be  entertained  by  the  early  his- 
tory of  the  western  part  of  our  great  republic. 

This  work  also  gives  an  insight  into  the  lives  of  the 
hardy  pioneers  of  the  far  West,  and  the  many  trials  and 
hardships  they  had  to  undergo  in  blazing  the  trail  and 
hewing  the  way  to  one  of  the  grandest  and  most  health- 
ful regions  of  the  United  States.  W F.  D. 

Chicago,  August  ist,  1899. 


r 


Capt.  W.  F.  Drannan  and  Black  Bess  Taking  a Nap. 


CONTENTS. 


9 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  i.  A Boy  Escapes  a Tyrant  and  Pays  a Debt 
with  a Hornet’s  Nest — Meets  Kit  Carson  and  Becomes 
the  Owner  of  a Pony  and  a Gun 1 7-3 1 


Chapter  2.  Beginning  of  an  Adventurous  Life — First 
Wild  Turkey — First  Buffalo — First  Feast  as  an  Hon- 
ored Guest  of  Indians — Dog  Meat 32-47 


Chapter  3.  Hunting  and  Trapping  in  South  Park, 
Where  a Boy,  Unaided,  Kills  and  Scalps  Two  Indians 
— Meeting  with  Fremont,  the  ‘‘Path-finder”. . . .47-73 


Chapter  4.  A Winter  in  North  Park— Running  Fight 
with  a Band  of  Utes  for  More  than  a Hundred  Miles, 
Ending  Hand  to  Hand — Victory 73-82 


Chapter  5.  On  the  Cache-la-Poudre — Visit  from  Gray 
Eagle,  Chief  of  the  Arapahoes. — A Bear-hunter  is 
Hunted  by  the  Bear — Phil,  the  Cannibal 83-96 


Chapter  6.  Two  Boys  Ride  to  the  City  of  Mexico — 
Eleven  Hundred  Miles  of  Trial,  Danger  and  Duty — A 
Gift  Horse — The  Wind  River  Mountains 96-104 


Chapter  7,  A Three  Days’  Battle  Between  the 


to 


CONTENTS. 


Comanches  and  the  Utes  for  the  Possession  of  a 
“Hunter’s  Paradise” — An  Unseasonable  Bath  . 105-1 19 


Chapter  8.  Kit  Carson  Kills  a Hudson  Bay  Company’s 
Trapper,  Who  Was  Spoiling  for  a Fight — Social  Good 
Time  with  a Train  of  Emigrants 1 19-129 


Chapter  9.  Marriage  of  Kit  Carson — The  Wedding 
Feast — Providing  Buffalo  Meat,  in  the  Original  Pack- 
age, for  the  Boarding-house  at  Bent’s  Fort.  . . 1 30-141 


Chapter  10.  Robber  Gamblers  of  San  Francisco — En- 
gaged by  Col.  Elliott  as  Indian  Scout— Kills  and  Scalps 
Five  Indians — Promoted  to  Chief  Scout 141-158 


Chapter  ii.  A Lively  Battle  with  Pah-Utes — Pinned 
to  Saddle  with  an  Arrow — Some  Very  Good  Indians — 
Stuttering  Captain — Beckwith  Opens  His  Pass.  1 59-175 


Caapter  12 — Col.  Elliott  Kills  His  First  Deer,  and  Se- 
cures a Fine  Pair  of  Horns  as  Present  for  His  Father 
— Beckwith’s  Tavern — Society 475-185 


Chapter  13 — Something  Worse  than  Fighting  Indians 
Dance  at  Col.  Elliott’s— Conspicuous  Suit  of  buckskin 
I Manage  to  Get  Back  to  Beckwith’s 186-191 


Chapter  14.  Drilling  the  Detailed  Scouts-  -We  Get 
Among  the  Utes — Four  Scouts  Have  Not  Reported 
Yet  — Another  Lively  Fight  — Beckwith  Makes  a 
Raise 191-210 


CONTENTS. 


T I 


Chapter  15.  A Hunt  on  Petaluma  Creek — Elk  Fever 
Breaks  Out — The  Expedition  to  Klamath  Lake — A 
Lively  Brush  with  Modoc  Indians 21 1-222 


Chapter  16.  More  Fish  than  I Had  Ever  Seen  at  One 
Time — We  Surprise  Some  Indians,  Who  Also  Surprise 
Us — The  Camp  at  Klamath  Lake — I Get  Another 
Wound  and  a Lot  of  Horses 223-233 


Chapter  17.  Discovery  of  Indians  with  Stolen  Horses 
— We  Kill  the  Indians  and  Return  the  Property  to  Its 
Owners — Meeting  of  Miners — In  Society  Again.  233-245 


Chapter  18.  Trapping  on  the  Gila — The  Pimas  Impart 
a Secret — Rescue  of  a White  Girl— A Young  Indian 
Agent — Visit  to  Taos — Uncle  Kit  Fails  to  Recognize 
Me 245-267 


Chapter  19.  A Warm  Time  in  a Cold  Country — A 
Band  of  Bannocks  Chase  Us  Into  a Storm  that  Saves 
Us — Kit  Carson  Slightly  Wounded — Beckwith  Makes 
a Century  Run 267-283 


Chapter  20.  Carson  Quits  the  Trail — Buffalo  Robes 
for  Ten  Cents — 4 ‘Pike’s  Peak  or  Bust” — The  New  City 
of  Denver — “Busted” — How  the  News  Started . 283-292 


Chapter  21.  A Fight  With  the  Sioux — Hasa,  the 
Mexican  Boy,  Killed — Mixed  Up  With  Emigrants 
Some  More — Four  New  Graves — Successful  Trading 

With  the  Kiowas 292-308 


12 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  22.  A Trip  to  Fort  Kearney — The  General 
Endorses  Us  and  We  Pilot  an  Emigrant  Train  to  Cal- 
ifornia— Woman  Who  Thought  I Was  “no  Gentle- 
man” — A Camp  Dance  308-332 


Chapter  23.  Bridger  and  West  Give  Christmas  a High 
Old  Welcome  in  Sacramento — California  Gulch — 
Meeting  with  Buffalo  Bill — Thirty-three  Scalps  with 
One  Knife 3 3 3 — 3 5 1 


Chapter  24.  Face  to  Face  with  a Band  of  Apaches — 
The  Death  of  Pinto — The  Closest  Call  I Ever  Had — 
A Night  Escape — Back  at  Fort  Douglas 351-360 


Chahter  25.  Three  Thousand  Dead  Indians — A De- 
tective from  Chicago — He  Goes  Home  with  an  Old 
Mormon’s  Youngest  Wife  and  Gets  into  Trouble — The 
Flight 360-374 


Chapter  26. — Through  to  Bannock — A Dance  of  Peace 
Fright  of  the  Negroes — A Freight  Train  Snowed  in 
and  a Trip  on  Snow-shoes — Some  Very  Tough  Road 
Agents 374-387 


Chapter  27.  Organization  of  a Vigilance  Committe — 
End  of  the  Notorious  Slade — One  Hundred  Dollars  for 
a “Crow-bait”  Horse — Flour  a Dollar  aPound  . 388-395 


Chater  28.  Twenty-two  Thousand  Dollars  in  Gold 
Dust — A Stage  Robbery — Another  Trip  to  California 
Meeting  with  Gen  Crook — Chief  of  Scouts. . . 396-404 


CONTENTS. 


I 


13 


Chapter  29.  Find  Some  Murdered  Emigrants — We 
Bury  the  Dead  and  Follow  and  Scalp  the  Indians — 
Gen.  Crook  Is  Pleased  with  the  Outcome — A Mojave 
Blanket  404-42 1 


Chapter  30.  A Wicked  Little  Battle — Capture  of  One 
Hundred  and  Eighty-two  Horses — Discovery  of  Black 
Canyon — Fort  Yuma  and  the  Paymaster 422-434 


Chapter  31.  To  California  for  Horses — My  Beautiful 
Mare,  Black  Bess — We  Get  Sixty-six  Scalps  and  Sev- 
enty-eight Horses — A Clean  Sweep 435-444 


Chapter  32.  Some  Men  Who  Were  Anxious  for  a Fight 
and  Got  It — Gen.  Crook  at  Black  Canyon --.Bad  Mis- 
take of  a Good  Man — The  Victims..  444-452 


Chapter  33.  The  Massacre  at  Choke  Cherry  Canyon — 
Mike  Maloney  Gets  Into  a Muss — Rescue  of  White 
Girls — Mike  Gets  Even  with  the  Apaches..  . .452-466 


Chapter  34.  Massacre  of  the  Davis  Family — A Hard 
Ride  and  Swift  Retribution — A Pitiful  Story — Burial 
of  the  Dead — I am  Sick  of  the  Business 466-475 


Chapter  35,  Black  Bess  Becomes  Popular  in  San 
Francisco — A Failure  as  Rancher — Buying  Horses  in 
Oregon — The  Klamath  Marsh — Captain  Jack  the 
Modoc 475  5^3 


Chapter  36.  The  Modoc  War — Gen.  Wheaton  Is  Held 


14 


CONTENTS. 


Off  by  the  Indians — Gen.  Canby  Takes  Command  and 
Gets  It  Worse — Massacre  of  the  Peace  Commis- 
sion  484-503 


Chapter  37 — The  Cry  of  a Babe — Capture  of  a Bevy 
of  Squaws — Treachery  of  Gen.  Ross’  Men  in  Killing 
Prisoners — Capture  of  the  Modoc  Chief 5^3-5 1 5 


Chapter  38.  Story  of  the  Captured  Braves — Why 
Captain  Jack  Deserted — Loathsome  Condition  of  the 
Indian  Stronghold — End  of  the  War — Some  Com- 
ments   516-524 


Chapter  39.  An  Interested  Boy — Execution  of  the  Mo- 
doc Leaders — Newspaper  Messengers — A Very  Sudden 
Deputy  Sheriff — A Bad  Man  Wound  Up 525-539 


Chapter  40.  In  Society  Some  More — A Very  Tight 
Place — -Ten  Pairs  of  Yankee  Ears — Black  Bess  Shakes 
Herself  at  the  Right  Time — Solemn  Compact.  539-5 52 


Chapter  41.  We  Locate  a Small  Band  of  Red  Butch- 
ers and  Send  them  to  the  Happy  Hunting  Grounds — 
Emigrants  Mistake  Us  for  Indians — George  Jones 
Wounded 5 5 3-561 


Chapter  42.  “We  Are  All  Surrounded” — A Bold  Dash 
and  a Bad  Wound — Mrs.  Davis  Shows  Her  Gratitude 
— Most  of  My  Work  Now  Done  on  Crutches.  . . 562-567 

Chapter  43.  Poor  Jones  Makes  His  Last  Fight — He 


CONTENTS. 


15 


Died  Among  a Lot  of  the  Devils  He  Had  Slain — End 
of  Thirty-one  Years  of  Hunting,  Trapping  and  Scout- 
ing   567-572 


Chapter  44.  A Grizzley  Hunts  the  Hunter — Shooting 
Seals  in  Alaskan  Waters — I Become  a Seattle  Hotel 
Keeper  and  the  Big  Fire  Closes  Me  Out — Some 
Rest — The  Old  Scout’s  Lament 573—586 


When  she  turned  her  back  I threw  the  nest  under  her  feet.  Page  21 


CHAPTER  I. 


A BOY  ESCAPES  A TYRANT  AND  PAYS  A DEBT  WITH  A 

hornet’s  nest-* -Meets  Kit  Carson  and  becomes 

THE  OWNER  OF  A PONY  AND  A GUN. 


The  old  saying  that  truth  is  stranger  than  fiction  is 
emphasized  in  the  life  of  every  man  whose  career  has 
been  one  of  adventure  and  danger  in  the  pursuit  of  a 
livlihood.  Knowing  nothing  of  the  art  of  fiction  and  but 
little  of  any  sort  of  literature;  having  been  brought  up  in 
che  severe  school  of  nature,  which  is  all  truth,  and 
having  had  as  instructor  in  my  calling  a man  who  was 
singularly  and  famously  truthful,  truth  has  been  my 
inheritance  and  in  this  book  I bequeath  it  to  my  readers. 

My  name  is  William  F.  Drannan,  and  I was  born  on 
the  Atlantic  ocean  January  30,  1832,  while  my  parents 
were  emigrating  from  France  to  the  United  States. 

They  settled  in  Tennessee,  near  Nashville,  and  lived 
upon  a farm  until  I was  about  four  years  old.  An 
epidemic  of  cholera  prevailed  in  that  region  for  some 
months  during  that  time  and  my  parents  died  of  the 
dread  disease,  leaving  myself  and  a litHe  sister,  seven 
months  old,  orphans. 


[17] 


i8 


SHAMEFULLY  ABUSED. 


I have  never  known  what  became  of  my  sister,  nor  do 
I know”  how  I came  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  a man  named 
Drake,  having  been  too  young  at  that  time  to  remember 
now  the  causes  of  happenings  then.  However,  I re- 
mained with  this  man,  Drake,  on  his  plantation  near 
The  Hermitage,  the  home  of  Gen.  Andrew  Jackson, 
until  I was  fifteen. 

Drake  was  a bachelor  who  owned  a large  number  of 
negro  slaves,  and  I was  brought  up  to  the  age  mentioned 
among  the  negro  children  of  the  place,  without  school- 
ing, but  cuffed  and  knocked  about  more  like  a worthless 
puppy  than  as  if  I were  a human  child.  I never  saw  the 
inside  of  a school-house,  nor  was  I taught  at  home  any- 
thing of  value.  Drake  never  even  undertook  to  teach 
me  the  difference  between  good  and  evil,  and  my  only 
associates  were  the  little  negro  boys  that  belonged  to 
Drake,  or  the  neighbors.  The  only  person  who  offered 
to  control  or  correct  me  was  an  old  negro  woman,  who 
so  far  from  being  the  revered  and  beloved  “Black 
Mammy,”  remembered  with  deep  affection  by  many 
southern  men  and  women,  was  simply  a hideous  black 
tyrant.  She  abused  me  shamefully,  and  I was  punished 
by  her  not  only  for  my  own  performances  that  displeased 
her,  but  for  all  the  meanness  done  by  the  negro  boys 
under  her  jurisdiction. 

Naturally  these  negro  boys  quickly  learned  that  they 
could  escape  punishment  by  falsely  imputing  to  me  ill  of 
their  mischief  and  I was  their  scape-goat. 

Often  Drake’s  negro  boys  went  over  to  General 
Jackson’s  plantation  to  play  with  the  negro  boys  over 
there  and  I frequently  accompanied  them.  One  day  the 


NO  EDUCATION. 


19 


old  General  asked  me  why  I did  not  go  to  school.  But 
I could  not  tell  him.  I did  not  know  why.  I have 
known  since  that  I was  not  told  to  go  and  anyone  knows 
that  a boy  just  growing  up  loose,  as  I was,  is  not  likely 
to  go  to  school  of  his  own  accord. 

I do  not  propose  to  convey  to  the  reader  the  idea  that 
I was  naturally  better  than  other  boys,  on  the  contrary, 
I frequently  deserved  the  rod  when  I did  not  get  it,  but 
more  frequently  received  a cruel  drubbing  when  I did  not 
deserve  it,  that,  too,  at  the  hands  of  the  old  negro  crone 
who  was  exceedingly  violent  as  well  as  unjust.  This,  of 
course,  cultivated  in  me  a hatred  against  the  vile 
creature  which  was  little  short  of  murderous. 

However,  I stayed  on  and  bore  up  under  my  troubles 
as  there  was  nothing  else  to  do,  so  far  as  I knew  then, 
but  “grin  and  bear  it.”  This  until  I was  fifteen  years 
old. 

At  this  time,  however  ignorant,  illiterate,  wild  as  I 
was,  a faint  idea  of  the  need  of  education  dawned  upon 
me.  I saw  other  white  boys  going  to  school;  I saw  the 
difference  between  them  and  myself  that  education  was 
rapidly  making  and  I realized  that  I was  growing  up  as 
ignorant  and  uncultured  as  the  slave  boys  who  were  my 
only  attainable  companions. 

Somehow  I had  heard  of  a great  city  called  St.  Louis, 
and  little  by  little  the  determination  grew  upon  me  to 
reach  that  wonderful  place  in  some  way. 

I got  a few  odd  jobs  of  work,  now  and  then,  from  the 
neighbors  and  in  a little  while  I had  accumulated  four 
dollars,  which  seemed  a great  deal  of  money  to  me,  and 
I thought  I would  buy  about  half  of  St.  Louis,  if  I could 


20 


ESCAPES  A TYRANT. 


only  get  there.  And  yet  I decided  that  it  would  be  just 
as  well  to  have  a few  more  dollars  and  would  not  leave 
my  present  home,  which,  bad  it  was,  was  the  only  one  I 
had,  until  I had  acquired  a little  more  money.  But 
coming  home  from  work  one  evening  I found  the  old 
negress  in  an  unusually  bad  humor,  even  for  her.  She 
gave  me  a cruel  thrashing  just  to  give  vent  to  her  feelings, 
and  that  decided  me  to  leave  at  once,  without  waiting  to 
further  improve  my  financial  condition.  I was  getting 
to  be  too  big  a boy  to  be  beaten  around  by  that  old 
wretch,  and  having  no  ties  of  friendship,  and  no  one 
being  at  all  interested  in  me,  I was  determined  to  get 
away  before  my  tormentor  could  get  another  chance 
at  me. 

I would  go  to  St.  Louis,  but  I must  get  even  with  the 
old  hag  before  starting.  I did  not  wish  to  leave  in  debt 
to  anyone  in  the  neighborhood  and  so  I cudgeled  my 
brain  to  devise  a means  for  settling  old  scores  with  my 
self-constituted  governess. 

Toward  evening  I wandered  into  a small  pasture, 
doing  my  best  to  think  how  I could  best  pay  off  the 
black  termagant  with  safety  to  myself,  when  with  great 
good  luck  I suddenly  beheld  a huge  hornet’s  nest,  hang- 
ing in  a bunch  of  shrubbery.  My  plan  instantly  and  fully 
developed.  Quickly  I returned  to  the  house  and  hastily 
gathered  what  little  clothing  I owned  into  a bundle,  done 
up  in  my  one  handkerchief,  an  imitation  of  bandanna,  of 
very  loud  pattern.  This  bundle  I secreted  in  the  barn 
and  then  hied  me  to  the  hornet’s  nest.  Approaching 
the  swinging  home  of  the  hornets  very  softly,  so  as  not 
to  disturb  the  inmates,  I stuffed  the  entrance  to  the 


PAYS  THE  DEBT, 


21 


hornet  castle  with  sassafras  leaves,  and  taking  the  great 
sphere  in  my  arms  I bore  it  to  a back  window  of  the 
kitchen  where  the  black  beldame  was  vigorously  at  work 
within  and  contentedly  droning  a negro  hymn. 

Dark  was  coming  on  and  a drizzly  rain  was  falling. 
It  was  the  spring  of  the  year,  the  day  had  been  warm 
and  the  kitchen  window  was  open.  I stole  up  to  the 
open  window.  The  woman’s  back  was  toward  me.  I 
removed  the  plug  of  sassafras  leaves  and  hurled  the  hor- 
net’s nest  so  that  it  landed  under  the  hag’s  skirts. 

I watched  the  proceedings  for  one  short  moment,  and 
then,  as  it  was  getting  late,  I concluded  I had  better  be 
off  for  St.  Louis.  So  I went  away  from  there  at  the  best 
gait  I could  command. 

I could  hear  my  arch-enemy  screaming,  and  it  was 
music  to  my  ears  that  even  thrills  me  yet,  sometimes. 
It  was  a better  supper  than  she  would  have  given  me. 

I saw  the  negroes  running  from  the  quarters,  and  else- 
where, toward  the  kitchen,  and  I must  beg  the  reader  to 
endeavor  to  imagine  the  scene  in  that  culinary  depart- 
ment, as  I am  unable  to  describe  it,  not  having  waited 
to  see  it  out. 

But  I slid  for  the  barn,  secured  my  bundle  and 
started  for  the  ancient  city  far  away. 

All  night,  on  foot  and  alone,  I trudged  the  turnpike 
that  ran  through  Nashville.  I arrived  in  that  city  about 
daylight,  tired  and  hungry,  but  was  too  timid  to  stop  for 
something  to  eat,  notwithstanding  I had  my  four  dollars 
safe  in  my  pocket,  and  had  not  eaten  since  noon,  the  day 
before. 

I plodded  along  through  the  town  and  crossed  the 


22 


MEETS  A FRIEND. 


Cumberland  river  on  a ferry-boat,  and  then  pulled  out  in 
a northerly  direction  for  about  an  hour,  when  I came  to 


a farm-house.  In  the  road  in  front  of  the  house  I met 


the  proprietor  who  was  going  from  his  garden,  opposite 


the  house,  to  his  breakfast. 


He  waited 
until  I came 
up,  and  as  I 
was  about  to 
pass  on,  he 
said: 

“Hello! 
my  boy. 
where  are  you 
going  so  early 
this  morn- 
ing?” 

I told  him 
I was  on  my 
way  to  St. 
Louis. 

“St.  Lou- 
is?” he  said. 
“I  never 
heard  of  that 
place  before. 


Where  is  it?” 

I told  him  I thought  it  was  in  Missouri,  but  was  not 
certain. 

“Are  you  goiug  all  the  way  on  foot,  and  alone?” 


CONTINUES  THE  JOURNEY. 


21 


I answered  that  I was,  and  that  I had  no  other  way 
to  go.  With  that  I started  on. 

“Hold  on,”  he  said.  “If  you  are  going  to  walk  that 
long  way  you  had  better  come  in  and  have  some  break- 
fast. ” 

You  may  rest  assured  that  I did  not  wait  for  a second 
invitation,  for  about  that  time  I was  as  hungry  as  I had 
ever  been  in  my  life. 

While  we  were  eating  breakfast  the  farmer  turned  to 
his  oldest  daughter  and  said: 

“Martha,  where  is  St.  Louis?” 

She  told  him  it  was  in  Missouri,  and  one  of  the  larg- 
est towns  in  the  South  or  West.  “Our  geography  tells 
lots  about  it,”  she  said. 

I thought  this  was  about  the  best  meal  I had  ever 
eaten  in  my  life,  and  after  it  was  over  I offered  to  pay 
for  it,  but  the  kind-hearted  old  man  refused  to  take  any- 
thing, saying:  “Keep  your  money,  my  boy.  You  may 

need  it  before  you  get  back.  And  on  your  return,  stop 
and  stay  with  me  all  night,  and  tell  us  all  about 
St.  Louis.” 

After  thanking  them,  I took  my  little  bundle,  bade 
them  good-bye,  and  was  on  my  journey  again.  I have 
always  regretted  that  I did  not  learn  this  good  man’s 
name,  but  I was  in  something  of  a hurry  just  then,  for  I 
feared  that  Mr.  Drake  might  get  on  my  trail  and  follow 
me  and  take  me  back,  and  I had  no  pressing  inclination 
to  meet  old  Hulda  again. 

I plodded  along  for  many  days,  now  and  then  look- 
ing back  for  Mr.  Drake,  but  not  anxious  to  see  him; 
rather  the  reverse. 


24 


ARRIVES  IN  ST.  LOUIS. 


It  is  not  necessary  to  lumber  up  this  story  with  my 
trip  to  St.  louis.  1 was  about  six  weeks  on  the  road, 
the  greater  part  of  the  time  in  Kentucky,  and  I had  no 
use  for  my  money.  I could  stay  at  almost  any  farm- 
house all  night,  wherever  I stopped,  and  have  a good  bed 
and  be  well  fed,  but  no  one  would  take  pay  for  these  ac- 
commodations. When  I got  to  Owensboro,  Ky. , I became 
acquainted  by  accident  with  the  mate  of  a steamboat 
that  was  going  to  St.  Louis  and  he  allowed  me  to  go  on 
the  boat  and  work  my  way. 

The  first  person  that  I met  in  St  Louis,  that  I dared 
to  speak  with,  was  a boy  somewhat  younger  than  myself. 
I asked  him  his  name,  and  in  broken  English  he  replied 
that  his  name  was  Henry  Becket. 

Seeing  that  he  was  French,  I began  to  talk  to  him  in 
his  own  language,  which  was  my  mother  tongue,  and  so 
we  were  quickly  friends.  I told  him  that  my  parents 
were  both  dead  and  that  I had  no  home,  and  he  being  of 
a kind-hearted,  sympathetic  nature,  invited  me  to  go 
home  with  him,  which  invitation  I immediately  accepted. 

Henry  Becket’s  mother  was  a widow  and  they  were 
very  poor,  but  they  were  lovingly  kind  to  me. 

I told  Mrs.  Becket  of  my  troubles  with  Mr.  Drake’s 
old  negro  woman;  how  much  abuse  I had  suffered  at  her 
hands  and  the  widow  sympathized  with  me  deeply.  She 
also  told  me  that  I was  welcome  to  stay  with  them  until 
such  time  as  I was  able  to  get  emyloyment..  So  I re- 
mained with  the  Beckets  three  days,  during  all  of  which 
time  I tried  hard  to  get  work,  but  without  success. 

On  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day  she  asked  me  if  I 
had  tried  any  of  the  hotels  for  work  1 told  her  that  1 


MEETS  DISCOURAGEMENT, 


25 


had  not,  so  she  advised  me  to  go  to  some  of  them  in  my 
rounds. 


»i&r, 

It  had  not  occurred 
to  me  that  a boy  could 
find  anything  to  do 
about  a hotel,  but  I 
took  Mrs.  Becket’s  ad- 
vice, and  that  morning 
called  at  the  American 
hotel,  which  was  the 
first  o^~  1 ' me  to. 


‘What  kind  of  work  do  you  think 
vou  could  do?” 


26 


MORE  DETERMINED. 


Quite  boldly,  for  a green  boy,  I approached  the  per- 
son whom  I was  told  was  the  proprietor  and  asked  him 
if  he  had  any  work  for  a boy,  whereupon  he  looked  at 
me  in  what  seemed  a most  scornful  way  and  said  very 
tartly: 

“What  kind  of  work  do  you  think  you  could  do?” 

I told  him  I could  do  most  anything  in  the  way  of 
common  labor. 

He  gave  me  another  half-scornful  smile  and  said: 

“I  think  you  had  better  go  home  to  your  parents  and 
go  to  school.  That’s  the  best  place  for  you.” 

This  was  discouraging,  but  instead  of  explaining  my 
position,  I turned  to  go,  and  in  spite  of  all  that  I could 
do  the  tears  came  to  my  eyes.  Not  that  I cared  so 
much  for  being  refused  employment,  but  for  the  manner 
in  which  the  hotel  man  had  spoken  to  me.  I did  not 
propose  to  give  up  at  that,  but  started  away,  more  than 
ever  determined  to  find  employment.  I did  not  want  to 
impose  on  the  Beckets,  notwithstanding  that  they  still 
assured  me  of  welcome,  and  moreover  I wished  to  do 
something  to  help  them,  even  more  than  myself. 

I had  nearly  reached  the  door  when  a man  who  had 
been  reading  a newspaper,  but  was  now  observing  me, 
called  out: 

“My  boy!  come  here.” 

I went  over  to  the  corner  where  he  was  sitting  and  I 
was  trying  at  the  same  time  to  dry  away  my  tears. 

This  man  asked  my  name,  which  I gave  him.  He 
then  asked  where  my  parents  lived,  and  I told  him  that 
they  died  when  I was  four  years  old. 

Other  questions  from  him  brought  out  the  story  of  my 


I went  over  to  the  corner  where  he  was  sitting  and  I was  trying  at  the 

same  time  to  dry  away  my  tears.  Page  26 


! ' ■ 


f 


' 


MEETS  KIT  CARSON. 


37 


boy-life;  Drake,  Gen.  Jackson,  the  negro  boys  and  the 
brutal  negress;  then  my  trip  to  St.  Louis — but  I omitted 
the  hornet’s-nest  incident.  I also  told  this  kindly 
stranger  that  I had  started  out  to  make  a living  for  my- 
self and  intended  to  succeed. 

Then  he  asked  me  where  I was  staying,  and  I told 
him  of  the  Beckets. 

Seeing  that  this  man  was  taking  quite  an  interest  in 
me,  gave  me  courage  to  ask  his  name.  He  told  me  that 
his  name  was  Kit  Carson,  and  that  by  calling  he  was  a 
hunter  and  trapper,  and  asked  me  how  I would  like  to 
learn  his  trade.  ‘ • 

I assured  him  that  I was  willing  to  do  anything  hon- 
orable for  a living  and  that  I thought  I would  very  much 
like  to  be  a hunter  and  trapper.  He  said  he  would  take 
me  with  him  and  I was  entirely  delighted.  Often  I had 
wished  to  own  a gun,  but  had  never  thought  of  shooting 
anything  larger  than  a squirrel  or  rabbit.  I was  ready  to 
start  at  once,  and  asked  him  when  he  would  go. 

Smilingly  he  told  me  not  to  be  in  a hurry,  and  asked 
me  where  Mrs.  Becket  lived.  I told  him  as  nearly  as 
I could,  and  again  asked  when  he  thought  we  would  leave 
St.  Louis.  1 was  fearful  that  he  would  change  his  mind 
about  taking  me  with  him.  I didn’t  know  him  then  so 
well  as  afterward.  I came  to  learn  that  his  slightest 
word  was  his  bond. 

But  visions  of  Mr.  Drake,  an  old  negro  woman  and  a 
hornet’s  nest,  still  haunted  me  and  made  me  overanxious. 
I wanted  to  get  as  far  out  of  their  reach  as  possible  and 
still  remain  on  the  earth. 


28 


SOME  GOOD  ADVICE. 


Mr.  Carson  laughed  in  a quiet  and  yet  much  amused 
way  and  said: 

'‘You  must  learn  to  not  do  anything  until  you  are 
good  and  ready,  and  there  are  heaps  of  things  to  do  be- 
fore we  can  start  out.  Now  let’s  go  and  see  Mrs. 
Becket.” 

So  I piloted  him  to  the  widow’s  home,  which,  as  near 
as  I can  remember,  was  about  four  blocks  from  the  hotel. 

Mr.  Carson  being  able  to  speak  French  first-rate,  had 
a talk  with  Mrs.  Becket  concerning  me.  The  story  she 
told  him,  corresponding  with  that  which  I had  told  him, 
he  concluded  that  I had  given  him  nothing  but  truth,  and 
then  he  aked  Mrs.  Becket  what  my  bill  was.  She  re- 
plied that  she  had  just  taken  me  in  because  I was  a poor 
boy,  until  such  time  as  I could  find  employment,  and 

that  her  charges  were 
nothing.  He  then  asked 
her  how  long  I had  been 
with  her,  and  being  told 
that  it  was  four  days, 
he  begged  her  to  take 
five  dollars,  which  she 
finally  accepted. 

I took  my  little  budget 
of  clothes  and  tearfully 
bidding  Mrs.  Becket  and 
Henry  good-bye,  started 
back  to  the  hctel  with 
my  new  guardian,  and 
I was  the  happiest  boy  in  the  world,  from  that  on,  so 
long  as  I was  a boy. 


I hardly  realized  that  I was 
Will  Drannan. 


MY  FIRST  BOOTS. 


29 


On  the  way  back  to  the  hotel  Mr.  Carson  stopped 
with  me  at  a store  and ‘he  bought  me  a new  suit  of 
clothes,  a hat  and  a pair  of  boots,  for  I was  barefooted 
and  almost  bareheaded.  Thus  dressed  I could  hardly 
realize  that  I was  the  Will  Drannan  of  a few  hours 
before. 

That  was  the  first  pair  of  boots  I had  ever  owned. 
Perhaps,  dear  reader,  you  do  not  know  what  that  means 
to  a healthy  boy  of  fifteen. 

It  means  more  than  has  ever  been  written,  or  ever 
will  be. 

I was  now  very  ready  to  start  out  hunting,  and  on  our 
way  to  the  hotel  I asked  Mr.  Carson  if  he  did  not  think 
we  could  get  away  by  morning,  but  he  told  me  that  to 
hunt  I would  probably  need  a gun,  and  we  must  wait 
until  he  could  have  one  made  for  me,  of  proper  size  for 
a boy. 

The  next  day  we  went  to  a gun  factory  and  Mr.  Car- 
son  gave  orders  concerning  the  weapon,  after  which  we 
returned  to  the  hotel.  We  remained  in  St.  Louis  about 
three  weeks  and  every  day  seemed  like  an  age  to  me.  At 
our  room  in  the  hotel  Mr.  Carson  would  tell  me  stories 
about  hunting  and  trapping,  and  notwithstanding  the  in- 
tense interest  of  the  stories  the  days  were  longer,  because 
I so  much  wished  to  be  among  the  scenes  he  talked  of, 
and  my  dreams  at  night  were  filled  with  all  sorts  of  won- 
derful animals,  my  fancy’s  creation  from  what  Mr.  Car- 
son  talked  about.  I had  never  fired  a gun  in  my  life  and 
I was  unbearably  impatient  to  get  my  hands  on  the  one 
that  was  being  made  for  me. 

During  the  wait  at  St.  Louis  Henry  Becket  was  with 


30 


MAKE  PREPARATION. 


me  nearly  all  the  time,  and  when  we  were  not  haunting 
the  gun  factory,  we  were,  as  much  as  possible,  in  Mr. 
Carson’s  room  at  the  hotel,  listening  to  stories  of  adven- 
ture on  the  plains  and  among  the  mountains. 

I became,  at  once,  very  much  attached  to  Mr.  Carson 
ind  I thought  there  was  not  another  man  in  the  United 
States  equal  to  him — and  there  never  has  been,  in  his 
line.  Besides,  since  the  death  of  my  mother  he  was  the 
only  one  who  had  taken  the  slightest  interest  in  me,  or 
treated  me  like  a human  being,  barring,  of  course,  the 
Beckets  and  those  persons  who  had  helped  me  on  my 
long  walk  from  Nashville  to  St.  Louis. 

Finally  Mr.  Carson — whom  I had  now  learned  to  ad- 
dress as  Uncle  Kit — said  to  me,  one  morning,  that  as  my 
gun  was  about  completed  we  would  make  preparations  to 
start  West.  So  we  went  out  to  a farm,  about  two  miles 
from  St.  Louis,  to  get  the  horses  from  where  Uncle  Kit 
had  left  them  to  be  cared  for  during  the  winter. 

We  went  on  foot,  taking  a rope,  or  riatta,  as  it  is 
called  by  frontiersmen,  and  on  the  way  to  the  farm  I 
could  think  or  talk  of  nothing  but  my  new  rifle,  and  the 
buffalo,  deer,  antelope  and  other  game  that  I would  kill 
when  I reached  the  plains.  Uncle  Kit  remarked  that  he 
had  forgotten  to  get  me  a saddle,  but  that  we  would  not 
have  to  wait  to  get  one  made,  as  there  were  plenty  of 
saddles  that  would  fit  me  already  made,  and  that  he 
would  buy  me  one  when  he  got  back  to  town. 

When  we  reached  the  farm  where  the  horses  were, 
Uncle  Kit  pointed  out  a little  bay  pony  that  had  both  hip 
ears  cropped  off  at  the  tips,  and  he  said: 


THE  PACK-TRAIN. 


3* 


‘‘Now  Willie,  there  is  your  pony.  Catch  him  and 
climb  on,’  at  the  same  time  handing  me  the  riatta. 

The  pony 
being  gentle 
I caught 
and  mount- 
ed him  at 
once,  and 
by  the  time 
we  had  got 
back  to 
town  money 
could  not 
have  bought 
that  ‘little 
c r o p-eared 
horse  from 
me.  As  will 
be  seen, 

later  on,  I kept  that  pony  and  he  was  a faithful  friend 
and  servant  until  his  tragic  death,  years  afterward. 

In  two  days  we  had  a pack-train  of  twenty  horses 
rigged  for  the  trip.  The  cargo  was  mostly  tobacco, 
blankets  and  beads,  which  Carson  was  taking  out  to  trade 
to  the  Indians  for  robes  and  furs.  Of  course  all  this 
was  novel  to  me  as  I had  never  seen  a pack-saddle 
or  anything  associated  with  one 

A man  named  Hughes,  of  whom  you  will  see  much 
in  this  narrative,  accompanied  and  assisted  Uncle  Kit  on 
this  trip,  as  he  had  done  the  season  before,  for  besides 
his  experience  as  a packer,  he  was  a good  trapper,  and 
Uncle  Kit  employed  him 


32 


BIOS  GOOD-BYE. 


CHAPTER  II. 


Beginning  of  an  adventurous  life. — First  will 
turkey. — First  buffalo. — First  feast  as  an 

HONORED  GUEST  OF  INDIANS. — DOG  MEAT. 


It  was  on  the  morning  of  May  3.  1847,  that  we 
rounded  up  the  horses  and  Uncle  Kit  and  Mr.  Hughes 
began  packing  them. 

It  being  the  first  trip  of  the  season  some  of  the  pack- 
ponies  were  a little  frisky  and  would  try  to  lie  down  when 
the  packs  were  put  on  them.  So  it  became  my  business 
to  look  after  them  and  keep  them  on  their  feet  until  all 
were  packed. 

Everything  being  in  readiness,  I shook  hands,  good- 
bye, with  my  much-esteemed  friend,  Henrv  Becket,  who 
had  been  helping  me  with  the  pack-horses,  and  who  also 
coveted  my  crop-eared  pony,  very  naturally  for  a boy. 
Then  we  were  off  for  a country  unknown  to  me,  except 
for  what  Uncle  Kit  had  told  me  of  it. 

My  happiness  seemed  to  increase,  if  that  were  possi- 
ble. I was  unspeakably  glad  to  get  away  from  St.  Louis 
before  Mr.  Drake  had  learned  of  my  whereabouts,  and 
up  to  the  time  of  this  writing  I have  never  been  back  to 
St.  Louis,  or  Tennessee,  nor  have  I heard  anything  of 
Mr.  Drake  or  my  ancient  enemy,  the  angel  of  Erebus. 

From  St.  Louis  we  struck  out  westward,  heading  for 
Ft.  Scott,  which  place  is  now  a thriving  little  city  in 


CAMPING  OUT. 


33 


southeastern  Kansas,  but  then  the  extreme  out-edge  of 
settlement. 

The  first  day  out  we  traveled  until  about  2 o’clock  in 
the  afternoon,  when  we  came  to  a fine  camping  place 
with  abundance  of  grass,  wood  and  water. 

Uncle  Kit,  thinking  we  had  traveled  far  enough  for 
the  first  day,  said: 

“I  reckon  the  lad  is  gittin’  tired,  Hughes,  ’s  well  as 
the  horses,  an’  I think  we’d  better  pull  up  for  the  day.” 

I was  glad  to  hear  this,  for  I had  done  more  riding- 
chat  day  than  in  any  one  day  in  my  life,  before. 

Uncle  Kit  told  me  it  would  be  my  job,  on  the  trip, 
as  soon  as  my  horse  was  unsaddled,  to  gather  wood  and 
start  a fire,  while  he  and  Mr.  Hughes  unpacked  the  ani- 
mals. So  I unsaddled  my  horse,  and  by  the  time  they 
had  the  horses  unpacked  I had  a good  fire  going  and 
plenty  of  water  at  hand  for  all  purposes.  Mr.  Hughes, 
meantime,  got  out  the  coffee-pot  and  frying-pan,  and 
soon  we  had  a meal  that  I greatly  enjoyed  and  which 
was  the  first  one  for  me  by  a camp-fire. 

After  we  had  eaten,  and  smoked  and  lounged  for  a 
while,  Uncle  Kit  asked  me  if  I did  not  wish  to  try  my 
rifle. 

Of  course  I did. 

So  taking  a piece  of  wood  and  sharpening  one  end 
that  it  might  be  driven  into  the  ground,  he  took  a piece 
of  charcoal  and  made  on  the  flat  side  of  the  wood  a mark 
for  me  to  shoot  at. 

‘‘Now  Willie,”  said  Uncle  Kit,  “if  you  ever  expect  to 
be  a good  hunter  you  must  learn  to  be  a good  shot,  and 
you  can’t  begin  practicin’  too  soon.” 


34 


TRIES  HIS  GUN. 


I had  never  fired  a gun,  but  I had  made  up  my  mind 
to  be  a mighty  hunter  and  so  started  in  for  shooting  prac- 
tice with  much  zeal.  Uncle  Kit  gave  me  few  instruc- 
tions about  how  to  hold  the  gun,  and  I raised  the  rifle  to 
my  face  and  fired  the  first  shot  of  my  life. 

I do  not  know  how  close  my  bullet  came  to  that 

mark,  nor  how 
far  it  missed,  for 
the  wood  was  un- 
touched. But  I 
tried  it  again  and 
with  much  better 
success,  for  this 
time  I struck  the 
stick  about  eight 
inches  below  the 
mark.  This  was 
great  encourage- 
ment and  from 
that  on  I could 
scarcely  take  time 
to  eat  meals  in 
camp,  in  my  anxi- 
ety to  practice, 
and  I was  further 
encouraged  b y 
Uncle  Kit’s  approval  of  my  desire  to  practice. 

One  evening  I overheard  Uncle  Kit  say  to  Mr. 
Huges,  “That  boy  is  going  to  make  a dead  shot  after- 
while.” 

This  gave  me  great  faith  in  my  future  as  a hunter 


Kit  Carson. 


TURKEY  HUNTING. 


35 


, id  Uncle  Kit  and  Mr.  Hughes  seemed  to  take  great  de- 
} £ht  in  teaching  me  all  the  tricks  of  rifle  marksmanship. 

After  we  had  traveled  about  two  days  we  came  to  a 
belt  of  country  where  there  were  wild  turkeys  in  great 
numbers,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  third  day  out,  Uncle 
Kit  called  me  early,  saying: 

“Come  Willie,  jump  up  now,  an’  le’s  go  an’  see  if  we 
can’t  git  a wild  turkey  for  breakfast.”  He  had  heard 
the  turkeys  that  morning  and  knew  which  direction  to 
go  to  find  them. 

I rolled  out  and  was  quickly  dressed  and  ready. 

When  near  the  turkey  haunt  Uncle  Kit  took  a quill 
from  his  pocket  and  by  a peculiar  noise  on  the  quill 
called  the  turkeys  up  near  to  him,  then  took  aim  at  one, 
fired  and  killed  it. 

“Now  Willie,”  he  said,  “do  you  think  you  can  do 
that  to-morrow  morning?” 

I told  him  that  I thought  if  I could  get  close  enough, 
and  the  turkeys  would  stand  right  still,  I believed  I could 
fetch  one.  And  I desired  to  know  if  it  was  certain  that 
there  would  be  turkeys  where  we  were  to  camp  that 

night. 

“Oh,  yes;”  said  he,  “thar’ll  be  plenty  of  ’em  for 
some  days  yit.” 

Early  the  next  morning  Uncle  Kit  called  me  as  usual, 
and  said,  “Git  up  now,  an’  see  what  you  can  do  for 
a turkey  breakfast.” 

Instantly  I was  on  my  feet,  Uncle  Kit  showed  me  the 
direction  to  go,  loaned  me  his  turkey-call  quill,  which, 
by  the  way,  he  had  been  teaching  me  how  to  use,  as  we 

rode  the  day  before. 


36 


KILLS  A TURKEY. 


I shouldered  my  rifle  and  had  not  gone  far  when  1 
heard  the  turkeys,  up  the  river.  Then  I took  the  quill 
and  started  my  turkey  tune.  Directly  a big  old  gobbler 
came  strutting  towards  me  and  I called  him  up  as  near 
to  me  as  he  would  come,  for  I wanted  to  make  sure  of 
him. 

Uncle  Kit  had  told  me  about  the  “buck-ague”  and  I 
knew  I had  it  when  I tried  to  draw  a bead  on  that  big 
gobbler.  I had  never  shot  at  a living  thing,  and  when  I 
leveled  my  rifle  it  was  impossible  to  control  my  nerves. 


Mr.  Gobbler  tumbled  over,  dead.  OI*  three  times  I tried  to 

hold  the  bead  on  him,  but 
could  not.  Now  I wouldn’t  have  missed  killing  him  for 


Lone  Wolf.  Kiowa  Chief 


BEYOND  CIVILIZATION. 


37 


anything,  in  reason,  for  I feared  that  Uncle  Kit  and  Mr. 
Hughes  would  laugh  at  me. 

At  last,  however,  the  sights  of  my  gun  steadied  long 
enough  for  me  to  pull  the  trigger,  and  to  my  great  de- 
light— and  I may  as  well  admit,  surprise — Mr.  Gobbler 
tumbled  over  dead  when  I fired,  and  he  was  so  heavy  as 
to  be  a good  load  for  me  to  carry  to  camp. 

Now  I was  filled  with  confidence  in  myself,  and  be- 
came eager  for  a shot  at  bigger  game;  antelope,  deer  or 
buffalo. 

In  a few  days  we  passed  Ft.  Scott  and  then  we  were 
entirely  beyond  the  bounds  of  civilization. 

From  that  on,  until  we  reached  our  destination,  the 
only  living  things  we  saw  were  jack-rabbits,  prairie-dogs, 
antelope,  deer,  buffalo,  sage-hens  and  Indians,  barring, 
of  course,  insects,  reptiles  and  the  like,  and  the  little 
owls  that  live  with  the  prairie-dogs  and  sit  upon  the 
mounds  of  the  dog  villages,  eyeing  affairs  with  seeming 
dignity  and  wisdom. 

The  owls  seem  to  turn  their  heads  while  watching 
you,  their  bodies  remaining  stationary,  until,  it  has  been 
said,  you  may  wring  their  heads  off  by  walking  around 
them  a few  times.  -I  would  not  have  my  young  friends 
believe,  however,  that  this  is  true.  It  is  only  a very  old 
joke  of  the  plains. 

The  first  herd  of  buffalo  we  saw  was  along  a stream 
known  as  Cow  Creek  and  which  is  a tributary  to  the  Ark- 
ansas river.  We  could  see  the  herd  feeding  along  the 
hills  in  the  distance. 

Here  was  good  camping  ground  and  it  was  time  tc 
halt  for  the  night.  So  as  soon  as  we  had  decided  on  the 


38 


SHOOTING  BUFFALO. 


spot  to  pitch  camp,  Uncle  Kit  directed  me  to  go  and  kill 
a buffalo,  so  that  we  might  have  fresh  meat  for  supper. 

That  suited  me,  exactly,  for  I was  eager  to  get  a shot 
at  such  big  game. 

Uncle  Kit  told  me  to  follow  up  the  ravine  until  oppo- 
site the  herd  and  then  climb  the  hill,  but  to  be  careful 
and  not  let  the  buffalo  see  me. 

I followed  his  instructions  to  the  dot,  for  I had  come 
to  believe  that  what  Kit  Carson  said  was  law  and  gospel, 
and  what  he  didn’t  know  would  not  fill  a book  as  large  as 
Ayer’s  Almanac.  I was  right,  too,  so  far  as  plainscraft 
was  concerned. 

Uncle  Kit  had  also  directed  me  to  select  a small  buf- 


I drew  a bead  on  her  and  fired. 


falo  to  shoot  at,  and  to 
surely  kill  it,  for  we  were 
mt  of  meat. 

It  so  happened  that  when 
I got  to  the  top  of  the  hill  and  in  sight  of  the  herd  again 
the  first  animal  that  seemed  to  present  an  advantageous 
shot  was  a two-year-old  heifer. 

I dropped  flat  on  the  ground  and  crawled  toward  her, 
like  a snake.  Once  she  raised  her  head,  but  the  wind 


Kiowa,  Lone  Wolfs  Camp. 


• OFF  AGAIN. 


39 


being  in  my  favor,  she  did  not  discern  me,  but  put  her 
head  down  and  went  on  feeding.  I succeeded  in  crawl- 
ing quite  close  enough  to  her,  drew  a bead  on  her  and 
fired.  At  the  crack  of  the  rifle  she  came  to  the  ground, 
“as  dead  as  a door-nail,”  much  to  the  surprise  of  Uncle 
Kit  and  Mr.  Hughes,  who  were  watching  me  from  a dis- 
tance. 

» 

When  the  animal  fell,  I threw  my  hat  in  the  air  and 
gave  a yell  that  would  have  done  credit  to  an  Apache 
warrior. 

Uncle  Kit  and  I dressed  the  buffalo  and  carried  the 
meat  into  camp  while  Mr.  Hughes  gathered  wood  for  the 
night-fires. 

I could  scarcely  sleep  that  night  for  thinking  of  my 
buffalo,  and  could  I have  seen  Henry  Becket  that  night 
I would  almost  have  stunned  him  with  my  stories  of 
frontier  life. 

The  novice  is  ever  enthusiastic. 

The  following  morning  we  woke  up  early,  and  off, 
still  heading  up  the  Arkansas  river  for  Bent’s  Fort,  and 
from  here  on  the  buffalo  were  numerous,  and  we  had  that 
sort  of  fresh  meat  until  we  got  good  and  tired  of  it. 

The  second  day  out  from  Cow  Creek,  in  the  after- 
noon, we  saw  about  twenty  Indians  coming  towards  us. 
At  the  word,  “Indians,”  I could  feel  my  hair  raise  on 
end,  and  many  an  Indian  has  tried  to  raise  it  since. 

This  was  my  first  sight  of  the  red  man.  He  looked 
to  me  to  be  more  of  a black  man. 

Uncle  Kit  asked  Mr.  Hughes  what  Indians  he  thought 
they  were.  The  reply  was  that  he  thought  them  to  be 


40 


MEETING  INDIANS. 


Kiowas,  and  on  coming  up  to  them  the  surmise  proved 
to  be  correct. 

They  were  Black  Buffalo,  the  chief  of  the  Kiowas, 
and  his  daughter,  accompanied  by  twenty  warriors. 

Black  Buffalo,  and  indeed  all  the  Kiowa  tribe,  were 
well  acquainted  with  Uncle  Kit  and  had  great  respect  for 
him.  So  a general  hand-shaking  and  pow-wow  followed. 

Carson  spoke  their  language  as  well  as  they  could, 
and  consequently  had  no  difficulty  conversing  with  them. 

In  those  days  very  few  Indians  knew  a word  of  Eng- 
lish, consequently  all  conversation  with  them  had  to  be 
carried  on  in  the  several  tribal  languages  or  dialects,  or 
in  the  jargon. 

This  latter  was  a short  language  composed  of  Indian, 
French  and  English  words,  and  was  called  ‘‘Chinook.” 
It  originated  with  the  fur  traders  of  Astoria,  Ore.,  and 
its  growth  was  assisted  by  missionaries,  until  it  became 
the  means  of  communication  between  the  whites  and  the 
Indians  of  the  coast  and  interior  of  the  vast  Northwest, 
and  even  between  Indians  whose  dialects  were  unknown 
to  each  other.  In  short  it  was  a sort  of  Indian 
“Volapuk,  ” and  was  very  easily  mastered.  There  has 
been  a dictionary  of  it  printed,  and  I have  known  a 
bright  man  to  acquire  the  vocabulary  in  two  or  three 
days. 

Black  Buffalo  and  his  little  band  shortly  turned  about 
and  rode  back  to  their  village,  which  was  only  two  miles 
away.  But  they  first  invited  us  to  visit  them,  which  we 
did,  as  not  to  have  done  so  would  have  been  a violent 
breach  of  plains  etiquette,  that  might  cause  a disruption 
:f  friendship. 


While  we  were  eating  supper  Uncle  Kit  asked  me  if  I knew  what  kind 
of  meat  I was  eatiug.  Page  4* 


EATING  DOG  MEAT. 


41 


In  the  Indian  village,  after  our  horses  had  beeu  un- 
packed and  turned  out  to  graze,  Uncle  Kit  and  Black 
Buffalo  strolled  about  among  the  lodges  or  wick-i-ups,  of 
which  there  were  something  like  fifteen  hundred.  I fol- 
lowed very  closely  for  I was  mortally  afraid  to  get  fifteen 
feet  away  from  Uncle  Kit,  in  that  sort  of  company. 

Black  Buffalo  did  us  the  honor,  that  evening,  to  take 
us  to  his  own  private  wick-i-up  for  supper.  It  was  a cus- 
tom with  this,  and  many  other  tribes  of  Indians,  that 
conveyed  great  distinction  to  visitors,  to  kill  and  cook 
for  them  a nice  fat  dog.  However,  I was  not  then  aware 
that  I was  so  distinguished  a guest,  as  indeed  neither  I 
nor  Mr.  Hughes  would  have  been  had  we  not  been  in  the 
company  of  Kit  Carson.  With  him  we  shone  by  re- 
flected greatness. 

While  we  were  out  on  our  walk  about  the  village, 
Black  Buffalo’s  cook  was  preparing  this  distinguishing 
feast  for  us. 

I had  kept  unusually  quiet  all  the  time  we  were 
among  the  Indians,  not  ev  n asking  one  question,  which 
was  very  remarkable  in  me.  For  I presume  that  on  the 
journey  I had  asked  more  questions  to  the  lineal  mile 
than  any  boy  ever  had  before. 

But  I ate  the  dog  in  silence  and  liked  it.  Of  course 
I had  no  idea  what  the  meat  was.  So,  Uncle  Kit  observ- 
ing the  gusto  with  which  I was  devouring  dog,  asked  me 
if  I knew  what  the  meat  was.  I told  him  that  I did  not, 
but  supposed  it  to  be  antelope,  or  buffalo.  He  informed 
me  that  it  was  neither,  but  good,  healthy  dog. 

I thought  he  was  joking,  and  simply  replied  that  it 


42 


HONORED  GUEST. 


was  mighty  good  meat,  even  if  it  was  dog,  and  gave  the 
matter  no  further  reflection,  at  the  time. 

The  next  day,  when  Uncle  Kit  and  Mr.  Hughes  as- 
sured me  that  it  was  really  dog  meat,  we  had  eaten  the 
night  before,  I felt  very  much  like  throwing  up  every- 
thing I had  eaten  at  the  village,  but  it  was  too  late  then. 

After  supper,  that  night  in  the  Indian  village,  we  had 
what  was  called  a ‘ ‘peace  sm°ke. ” The, Chief  selected 
about  a dozen  of  his  braves,  and  all  being  seated  in  a 
circle,  two  of  our  party  on  one  side  of  the  Chief,  and 
Uncle  Kit  at  his  right,  a pipe  was  lit  and  the  Chief  took 
one  whiff,  the  smoke  of  which  he  blew  up  into  the  air. 
He  then  took  another  whiff,  and  turning  to  his  chief 
guest,  handed  him  the  pipe,  who  blew  a whiff  into  the 
air  and  the  second  one  into  the  face  of  the  host.  This 
performance  having  been  gone  through  with  for  each 
guest,  the  Chief  then  handed  the  pipe  to  the  first  Indian 
on  his  right,  and  thus  it  went  around  the  circle,  each 
Indian  blowing  a whiff  into  the  air. 

It  was  considered  a great  breach  of  etiquette  to  speak, 
or  even  smile,  during  this  ceremony. 

This  Indian  village  was  situated  at  Pawnee  Rock,  on 
the  Arkansas  river,  in  a beautiful  valley,  in  what  is  now 
the  southwest  corner  of  Benton  Co.,  Kan.  The  wick-i- 
ups  were  made  of  poles  set  on  ends,  gathered  together  at 
the  top,  and  covered  with  buffalo  skins  from  which  the 
the  hair  had  been  removed. 

The  Kiowas  were,  at  that  time,  the  most  numerous 
tribe  of  Indians  in  the  United  States. 

Early  the  next  morning  after  our  dog-feast  and  peace- 
smoke,  our  party  was  up  and  off,  , and  I was  particularly 


COMANCHE  VILLAGE. 


43 


glad  to  get  away,  feeling  that  I would  rather  camp  out 
and  feed  on  buffalo,  antelope,  jack-rabbits  and  wild  tur- 
key than  dwell  in  the  lodges  of  Kiowas  and  be  4 ‘hon- 
ored” with  banquets  of  the  nicest  dogs  in  all  that  region. 

We  took  the  Santa  Fe  trail  and  the  buffalo  were  so 
numerous  along  the  way  that  we  had  to  take  some  pains 
to  avoid  them,  as  when  they  were  traveling  or  on  a stam- 
pede, nothing  could  turn  or  stop  them  and  we  would  be 
in  danger  of  being  ground  to  atoms  beneath  their  thou- 
sands of  hoofs. 

In  two  days  more  of  travel  we  reached  another  In- 
dian village,  on  another  beautiful  plain,  in  what  is  now 
Pawnee  Co.,  Kan.  Here  the  country  was  so  level  that 
one  could  see  for  miles  in  any  direction,  and  the  sun  ris* 
ing  or  setting,  seemed  to  come  up  or  go  down,  as  a great 
golden  disk,  out  of  or  into  the  earth.  We  could  see 
many  bands  of  wild  horses  feeding  on  the  luxuriant 
grasses,  and  little  did  I think,  then,  that  I would  live  to 
see  the  day  when  that  broad  and  unfenced  plain  would 
be  converted  into  homes  for  hundreds  of  the  pale-faced 
race. 

We  were  met  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village  by  White 
Horse,  Chief  of  the  Comanches,  who,  being  an  intimate 
friend  of  Uncle  Kit,  shook  hands  with  us  and  conducted 
us  to  his  own  wick-i-up.  There  we  unpacked  the  animals 
and  piled  up  our  goods,  and  White  Horse  detailed  an  In- 
dian to  guard  the  packs  day  and  night. 

After  our  horses  had  been  picketed  out  to  grass,  the 
Chief  took  us  into  his  lodge  to  dine  with  him,  and  here 
again  we  had  boiled  dog  and  the  peace  smoke. 

White  Horse  insisted  upon  our  being  his  guests  until 


44 


ESCORTED  BY  CHIEF. 


morning,  it  being  about  noon  when  we  arrived,  and  as 
our  horses  were  much  jaded  we  decided  to  give  them  the 
advantage  of  such  a rest. 

The  Comanche  Chief  was  most  exceedingly  hospi- 
table, in  his  way,  and  would  not  allow  us  to  eat  of  our 
own  provisions,  but  insisted  upon  our  eating  with  him, 
and  4 ‘trotted”  out  the  best  “grub”  he  had. 

After  breakfast  the  next  morning  our  horses  were 
brought  in  by  the  Indians,  who  also  helped  us  to  pack, 
and  we  struck  the  trail  again,  accompanied  by  White 
Horse  and  his  daughter,  who  traveled  with  us  all  that 
day  and  camped  with  us  at  night. 

That  evening  Uncle  Kit  killed  a fine  buffalo  calf,  and 
I thought  it  the  best  meat  I had  ever  eaten — even  better 
than  dog. 

The  following  morning  the  Chief  and  his  daughter  re- 
turned to  the  village,  and  we  proceeded  on  our  journey. 

That  day,  riding  along  on  my  crop-eared  pony,  about 
fifty  yards  behind  my  companions,  I chanced  to  look  be- 
hind me  and  I saw  what  I thought  to  be  a man,  walking 
on  a hill  towards  us,  and  he  appeared  to  be  at  least 
twenty  feet  high.  As  he  got  further  down  the  hill  he 
appeared  to  grow  shorter,  until,  I thought,  he  went  down 
-v  ravine  and  out  of  sight. 

I put  spurs  to  Croppy  and  galloped  up  to  Uncle  Kit, 
and  told  him  I had  seen  the  tallest  man  on  earth,  de- 
claring that  the  man  was  at  least  twenty  feet  high. 

“An’  you  saw  a man  that  high?”  said  Uncle  Kite 

“Indeed  I did,”  I replied. 

“Sure  you  saw  him?”  he  asked. 


.»ciis.  Tex..  1873. 


Lone  Wolf’s  Son.  Killed 


SEES  A MIRAGE. 


45 


“Yes,  sir;  .and  if  you  will  watch  you  will  see  him 
come  up  out  of  the  ravine,  directly.  ” 

Uncle  Kit,  laughing,  said:  “It  was  not  a man  you 

saw,  my  boy,  but  a mirage,”  and  he  explained  to  me  the 
phenomena,  which  I became  familiar  with  in  the  years 
that  followed. 

Sometimes  the  mirages  present  to  the  vision  what  ap- 
pear to  be  men,  at  other  times  bodies  of  water  sur- 
rounded by  trees,  and  often  houses  and  whole  towns. 
They  appear  before  you  on  the  dryest  plains  and  then 
disappear  as  if  the  earth  opened  and  swallowed  them. 

Early  in  June  we  reached  Bent’s  Fort  and  met  there 
Col.  Bent  and  his  son,  Mr.  Roubidoux  and  his  son,  and 
a man  named  James  Bridger,  of  whom  you  will  see  a great 
deal,  later  on  in  this  narrative.  These  men  were  all 
traders,  buying  furs  and  buffalo  robes  from  Indians, 
white  hunters  and  trappers. 

We  remained  at  Bent’s  Fort  six  weeks,  and  often 
during  that  time  some  one  of  the  many  hunters,  trappers 
and  traders,  that  made  this  place  their  headquarters, 
would  ask  Uncle  Kit  what  he  was  going  to  do  with  that 
boy — meaning  me.  To  all  of  which  Carson  would  reply: 
“I’m  goin’  to  make  a hunter  and  trapper  of  him.” 

During  the  six  weeks  at  the  fort  I was  out  nearly 
every  day  with  some  of  the  men,  and  to  me  they  gave  the 
name  of  “Young  Kit.” 

By  the  time  we  were  ready  to  leave  Bent’s  Fort, 
Young  Kit  became  quite  a rider,  and  Uncle  Kit  had  been 
training  me  in  the  dexterous  use  of  the  rifle,  shooting 
from  my  knee,  lying  on  my  back,  resting  the  gun  on  my 


46 


KIT  CARSON'S  HOME. 


toes,  lying  flat  on  my  belly,  resting  the  gun  on  my  hat, 
and  in  various  other  positions. 

Having  disposed  of  all  our  blankets,  beads  and  all  of 
the  tobacco,  except  what  was  reserved  for  home  con- 
sumption, we  left  Bent’s  Fort,  crossed  the  Arkansas  river 
and  followed  up  Apishapa  creek  three  days,  when  we 
came  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  among  which  we  were 
during  four  days,  passing  Trinkara  Peak  then  turning 
south  toward  a little  Mexican  village  called  Taos,  where 
Uncle  Kit  made  his  home,  he  having  a house  of  his  own 
in  that  village. 

On  the  morning  after  our  arrival  at  Taos,  Uncle  Kit 
said  to  me  at  breakfast: 

“Willie,  there  are  a lot  of  Mexican  boys  here  who 
would  like  to  play  with  you.” 

Some  of  them  were  standing  near  in  a group,  gazing 
'at  me  in  much  wonderment. 

“But,”  continued  Uncle  Kit,  “you  will  have  to  learn 
to  speak  their  language  in  order  to  have  much  fun.  Go 
with  them  if  you  wish,  and  tell  me  to-night  how  many 
words  you  have  learned.” 

Then  he  spoke  to  the  group  of  boys  in  their  own 
tongue  and  told  them  I wished  to  play  with  them  but 
couldn’t  speak  their  language,  and  wanted  to  learn. 

We  had  a jolly  time  that  day  in  many  boyish  games 
that  I had  never  seen,  and  when  I came  home  Uncle 
Kit  asked  me  how  many  words  I had  learned. 

“Three,”  I replied. 

“Splendid!”  he  exclaimed.  “ ’Twont  be  long  fo’ you 
are  a fus’-class  Mexican.” 

One  evening,  after  we  had  been  in  Taos  about  two 


Cliff  Dwellings,  Canon  de  Chelly,  Arizona. 


THE  FANDANGO. 


47 


weeks,  Uncle  Kit  told  me  to  put  on  my  best  suit  and  he 
would  take  me  to  a fandango.  I was  not  sure  what  a 
fandango  was  but  was  willing  to  experience  one,  just  the 
same,  and,  togged  out  in  our  best,  we  went  to  the  fan- 
dango, which  was  simply  a Mexican  dance.  Sort  of  a 
public  ball. 

I looked  on  that  night  with  much  interest,  but  de- 
clined to  participate  further  than  that.  I learned  better 
in  a little  while,  and  the  fandango,  with  the  tinkle  of 
guitars  and  mandolins,  the  clink  of  the  cavalleros’  spurs, 
and  the  laugh  and  beauty  of  the  Mexican  senoritas,  be- 
came a great  pleasure  to  me. 

Thus  began  our  life  at  the  little  Mexican  town  of 
Taos,  the  home  of  that  great  hero  of  the  West,  Kit 
Carbon 


CHAPTER  III. 


Hunting  and  trapping  in  South  Park,  where  a 

BOY,  UNAIDED,  KILLS  AND  SCALPS  TWO  INDIANS. 

Meeting  with  Fremont,  the  ‘ ‘Path-finder/  ’ 


One  evening  in  October  as  I was  getting  ready  to  re- 
tire for  the  night,  Uncle  Kit  said  to  me: 

“Now  Willie,  to-morrow  you  must  put  in  the  day 


48 


MOULDING  BULLETS, 


moulding  bullets,  for  we  must  begin  making  preparations 
to  go  trapping.  ” 

This  was  pleasant  news  to  me,  for  I had  laid  around 
so  long  with  nothing  to  do  but  skylark  with  those  Mexi- 
can boys,  that  life  was  getting  to  be  monotonous. 

The  reader  will  understand  that  in  those  early  days 
we  had  only  muzzle-loading  guns,  and  for  every  one  of 
those  we  had  to  have  a pair  of  bullet-moulds  the  size  of 
the  rifle,  and  before  starting  out  on  an  expedition  it  was 
necessary  to  mould  enough  bullets  to  last  several  weeks, 
if  not  the  entire  trip,  and  when  you  realize  that  almost 
any  time  we  were  liable  to  get  into  a ‘ ‘scrap”  with  the 
Indians,  you  can  understand  that  it  required  a great 
number  of  these  little  leaden  missiles  to  accommodate 
the  red  brethren,  as  well  as  to  meet  other  uses. 

That  evening  after  I had  gone  to  bed,  Mr  Hughes 
said: 

4 ‘Kit,  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  that  buy?” 

4 ‘What  boy?”  asked  Uncle  Kit,  as  if  he  w.^re  aston- 
ished. 

“Why,  Willie.  What  are  you  going  to  dc  with  him 
while  we  are  away  trapping?” 

“Why,  take  him  along  to  help  us,  of  course.” 

“Thunderation!”  exclaimed  Hughes;  “he  will  only 
be  a bother  to  us  in  the  mountains.” 

I had  been  with  Kit  Carson  three  months,  and  this 
was  the  first  time  I had  seen  him,  apparently,  out  of 
humor.  But  at  Hughes’  last  remark,  he  said  in  a decid- 
edly angry  tone: 

“Jim  Hughes,  I want  you  to  understand  that  wher 
ever  I go  that  boy  can  go,  too.  if  he  likes.” 


TRAPPING  EXPEDITION 


49 


Hughes  seeing  that  Carson  did  not  like  what  he  had 
said  about  “that  boy,”  turned  the  matter  off  by  saying 
that  he  had  only  made  the  remark  to  tease  the  boy. 

Next  morning  Uncle  Kit  started  a Mexican  lad  out  to 
round  up  the  horses,  and  the  next  two  days  were  spent 
in  fixing  up  our  pack-saddles  preparatory  for  the  trip. 

Our  horses  were  as  fat  as  seals,  as  there  was  no  end 
to  the  range  for  them  in  this  part  of  the  country. 

All  being  in  readiness  we  pulled  out  from  Taos,  four 
of  us,  Uncle  Kit,  Mr.  Hughes,  myself  and  a Mexican 
boy  named  Juan.  The  latter  went  along  to  bring  our 
horses  back  home. 

We  crossed  back  over  that  spur  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains that  we  had  came  in  through,  and  struck  the  Ark- 
ansas river  near  where  Pueblo,  Colo.,  now  stands,  and 
from  here  we  pnlled  for  the  headwaters  of  that  river, 
carefully  examining  every  stream  we  came  to  for  bea- 
ver sign. 

We  saw  abundance  of  game  on  the  trip,  such  as 
antelope,  deer  and  buffalo. 

When  we  had  traveled  up  the  river  about  two  days, 
Uncle  Kit  thought  it  was  not  best  to  take  the  horses 
any  further  as  the  country  was  now  too  rough  for  them, 
so  we  spent  the  next  two  days  caching  our  cargo. 

As  some  may  not  know  what  a cache  is,  I will  ex- 
plain. 

Cache  is  French  for  “hide.”  A hole  is  dug  in  the 
ground  and  the  things  to  be  hidden  are  put  in  there 
and  covered  with  brush,  then  with  dirt,  then  more 
brush  and  more  dirt,  and  the  whole  is  covered  with 

turf,  to  make  the  surface  look  as  natural  as  possible, 


50 


IN  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


so  that  it  is  not  likely  to  be  discovered  by  Indians  at 
a distance. 

We  having  about  a thousand  pounds  of  stores  to 
cache,  it  was  no  small  job. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  in  this  camp,  we 
all  started  out  to  kill  some  game  for  Juan  to  take  back 
home.  Mr.  Hughes  started  out  in  one  direction  and 
Uncle  Kit  and  I in  the  opposite.  We  had  gone  but 
a short  distance,  when,  looking  across  a canyon,  I saw 
a herd  of  some  kind  of  animals  and  asked  Uncle  Kit 
what  they  were.  He  told  me  they  were  bison,  and 
complimented  me  on  having  such  good  eyes. 

Bison,  by  the  way,  is  the  distinctive  name  in  that 
region  for  mountain  buffalo,  all  buffalo  belonging  to  the 
bison  family. 

We  then  started  on  a round-about  way  to  try  and 
get  in  gunshot  of  the  herd,  in  which  we  were  successful. 
When  we  had  got  in  gunshot  of  them  and  he  had  pointed 
out  the  one  for  me  to  shoot  at,  he  said: 

“Now  take  a rest  on  that  big  rock,  and  when  I count 
three,  pull  the  trigger,  and  be  sure  that  you  break  its 
neck.” 

The  guns  went  off  so  near  together  that  I turned  and 
asked  Uncle  Kit  why  he  didn’t  shoot,  too,  for  I did  not 
think  that  he  had  fired;  but  as  soon  as  the  smoke  from 
our  guns  had  cleared  away,  I saw  two  bison  kicking  their 
last. 

After  dressing  the  animals  we  returned  to  camp  and 
learned  that  Mr.  Hughes  had  killed  two  deer,  which,  with 
the  two  bisons,  were  enough  to  load  the  pack-horses. 

We  were  now  in  the  extreme  south  end  of  South 


CARRYING  A PACK. 


5 1 

Park,  which  was  mostly  a prairie  country,  except  along 
the  streams,  and  more  or  less  pine  trees  were  scattered 
fcere  and  there  along  the  hillsides. 

Next  morning  we  loaded  the  pack-horses  with  the 
game  and  Juan  started  back  home,  alone,  with  the  horses. 

After  we  had  seen  him  off,  we  rolled  up  our  blankets 
and  taking  enough  provisions  to  last  several  days,  we 
“packed  up  our  packs”  and  pulled  out  up  the  Arkansas 
again. 

This,  to  me,  was  like  breaking  a colt  to  the  saddle, 
only  I didn’t  buck. 

Notwithstanding  I had  a light  pack,  for  I was  a light 
subject,  it  was  hard  work  for  me.  Mr.  Hughes  had  been 
out  the  year  before,  and  being  a grown  man,  it  did  not 
worry  him  as  it  did  me.  However,  we  traveled  very 
slowly,  looking  well  all  the  time  for  beaver  sign. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  we  came  to  where 
there  was  plenty  of  beaver  sign.  In  fact  the  trees  they 
had  gnawed  down  were  so  thick  that  we  could  not  travel 
‘dong  the  river,  but  had  to  take  to  the  hillsides. 

We  camped  that  night  at  the  mouth  of  a little  stream 
rhat  empties  into  the  Arkansas,  and  the  following  morn- 
ing, after  looking  over  the  trapping  ground,  the  two  men 
selected  a place  to  build  our  winter  quarters,  and  we 
went  to  work.  They  worked  at  the  cabin  while  I killed 
the  game  for  our  meat  and  did  the  cooking,  my  outfit 
being  a frying-pan,  a coffee-pot  and  a tin  cup  for  each 
of  us. 

They  were  about  two  weeks  getting  our  cabin,  or  dug- 
out,  completed.  It  was  made  by  first  digging  out  a place 
in  the  hillside,  about  twelve  feet  square,  and  building  up 


U.  ILL  UB. 


5 2 WINTER  QUARTERS. 

the  front  with  logs,  then  brush  and  pine  boughs,  and 
then  the  whole  with  dirt.  'I  he  door  was  made  oi 
hewed  logs,  fastened  together  with  crossed  pieces  by 
means  of  wooden  pins,  and  it  was  hung  on  heavy 
wooden  hinges. 

Our  winter  quarters  being  thus  completed,  Uncle  Kit 
and  Mr.  Hughes  set  o,ut  one  morning  for  the  cache,  in- 
tending to  return  that  same  evening.  Before  starting 
they  told  me  to  go  out  some  time  during  the  day  and 
kill  a small  deer,  that  I would  be  able  to  carry  to  camp, 
and  have  a good  lot  of  it  cooked  for  supper,  as  they 
would  be  very  hungry  when  they  returned  that  night. 

They  started  sometime  before  daylight,  and  I stayed 

around  the 
cabin,  clear- 
i n g things 
up  and  cut- 
t i ng  wood, 
until  about 
ten  o’clock, 
then  cleaned 
up  my  rifle 
and  started 
out  to  kill 
the  deer.  It 
was  an  easy 
matter  to 
find  one,  for 
About  the  right  thing.  they  were  as 

thick  in  that 

country  as  sheep  on  a mutton  farm.  But,  boy-like,  i. 


The  other  two  dropped  to  their  knees  and  looked  all  around.  Page  53 


KILLS  TWO  INDIANS. 


53 


wandered  off  up  the  canyon  about  two  miles  before  I 
found  a deer  that  just  suited  me,  and  I wanted  to  see 
the  country,  anyway. 

At  last  I found  a little  deer  that  I thought  about 
the  right  thing  and  I killed  and  dressed  it — or  rather  un- 
dressed it — threw  it  on  my  shoulder  and  pulled  for  camp. 

Instead  of  going  the  way  I had  come,  I climbed  out 
on  the  ridge  to  avoid  the  down  timber,  that  was  so  thick 
in  the  creek  bottom,  When  I was  near  the  top  of  the 
ridge,  I looked  off  a short  distance  and  saw  three  In- 
dians, on  foot,  going  down  the  ridge  in  the  direction  of 
our  dug-out. 

I had  often  heard  Uncle  Kit  tell  how  the  Indians 
robbed  the  camps  of  trappers  and  that  they  invariably 
burned  the  cabins. 

As  soon  as  I got  sight  of  the  Indians,  I dropped  back 
over  the  ^idge,  for,  luckily,  they  had  not  got  sight  of  me. 
In  a few  seconds  I did  some  powerful  thinking,  and  I 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  would  never  do  to  let  them 
find  our  dug-out,  for  while  it  would  hardly  burn,  they 
might  carry  off  our  bedding,  or  destroy  it.  So  I crawled 
•up  to  a log,  took  good  aim  at  the  leader  and  fired,  strik- 
ing him  just  under  the  arm,  bringing  him  down.  The 
other  two  dropped  to  their  knees,  and  looked  all  around, 
and  I suppose  the  only  thing  that  saved  me  was  the 
wind  was  coming  from  them  to  me  and  blew  the  smoke 
from  my  gun  down  the  canyon,  so  that  they  did  not 
see  where  the  shot  came  from. 

I heard  Uncle  Kit  tell  of  lying  on  his  back  and  load- 
ing his  rifle,  when  in  a close  place,  so  I did  likewise  and 
crawled  up  to  my  log  again.  The  remaining  two  In- 


54 


TAKES  THEIR  SCALPS. 


dians,  having  looked  all  around  and  seeing  no  one,  had 
got  on  their  feet  again,  and  were  standing  with  bow  and 
arrow  in  hand,  each  having  a quiver  full  of  arrows  on 
his  back,  and  if  they  had  got  sight  of  me  that  would  have 
been  the  last  of  Young  Kit.  But  I took  aim  at  one  of 
them  and  fired,  with  the  same  result  as  before.  As  my 
second  Indian  fell,  the  third  one  started  back  up  the 
the  ridge,  in  the  direction  from  which  they  had  come, 
and  if  I ever  saw  an  Indian  do  tall  sprinting,  that  one 
did.  I watched  him  until  he  was  out  of  sight,  and  then 
loaded  my  gun,  shouldered  my  deer  and  went  to  where 
the  two  Indians  were  lying.  They  were  both  as  dead  as 
dried  herring. 

I had  never  seen  an  Indian  scalped,  but  had  often 
heard  how  it  was  done,  so  I pulled  my  hunting-knife  and 
took  their  top-nots,  and  again  started  for  the  dug-out,  a 
great  hunter  and  Indian  fighter,  in  my  own  estimation. 

I hung  the  scalps  up  inside  the  dug-out,  directly  in 
front  of  the  door,  so  that  Uncle  Kit  and  Mr.  Hughes 
would  see  them  the  first  thing  on  entering  the  cabin. 
Then  I set  about  getting  supper,  all  the  while  thinking 
what  a mighty  deed  I had  done  in  saving  our  cabin, 
which  was  probably  true. 

The  two  men  did  not  return  until  after  dark  and  they 
were  very  tired  and  hungry,  having  walked  forty  miles  that 
day,  carrying  on  the  return  trip  a hundred  pounds  each. 
That  is  a heavy  load  for  a man  to  carry  twenty  miles, 
but  they  did  it,  and  it  was  no  uncommon  thing  for  the 
hardy  frontiersmen  of  that  day  to  perfc  bl<e  feats  of 
strength  and  endurance. 


THE  TRAPPING  GROUND. 


55 


When  they  pushed  open  the  heavy  log  door,  the 
scalps  were  almost  in  their  faces. 

“Who  did  this?”  said  Uncle  Kit,  as  he  threw  his 
heavy  pack  on  the  dirt  floor. 

I told  him  and  he  was  very  much  astonished. 

“How  was  it,  Willie?”  he  asked,  and  I told  him  the 
whole  story. 

While  I was  telling  him  the  story,  as  briefly  as  I 
could,  he  showed  more  agitation  than  I had  ever  seen 
him  exhibit. 

During  all  the  time  I had  been  with  him,  he  had 
never  spoken  a harsh  word  to  me,  up  to  this  time.  But 
while  we  were  at  supper  he  said  to.  me: 

“My  boy,  don’t  let  me  ever  hear  of  you  taking  such 
chances  again.  Not  that  I care  for  you  killin’  the  In- 
juns, but  you  took  great  chances  for  losing  your  own 
hair,  for  had  them  redskins  got  sight  of  you,  by  the  time 
they  had  got  through  with  you,  your  hide  wouldn’t  have 
held  corn  shucks.  And  it’s  a mystery  to  me  that  they 
didn’t  see  you.  ” 

The  following  morning  after  breakfast  we  all  took  a 
trip  up  the  canyon,  where  I had  gone  the  morning  be- 
fore, and  we  took  with  us  twelve  beaver  traps  that  they 
had  brought  up  from  the  cache,  and  these  we  set  at  dif- 
ferent places  along  the  stream. 

After  they  were  set  Uncle  Kit  asked  me  if  I thought 
1 could  find  all  of  them  again,  and  I said  I thought  I 
could. 

“All  right  then,”  he  said.  “It  will  be  your  job  to 
tend  these  traps,  until  Jim  and  me  get  the  balance  of  the 


56 


CATCHING  BEAVER. 


stuff  packed  up  from  the  cache.  Now  le’s  go  and  see 
your  Injuns.” 

I took  them  to  where  I had  shot  the  two  Indians, 
and  Uncle  Kit,  as  soon  as  he  saw  them,  said: 

“They  are  Utes,  aud  the  wust  hoss-thieves  on  the 
waters  of  the  Colorado.  Willie,  I’m  dog-goned  glad  you 
killed  ’em.  I would  a give  the  best  hoss  I’ve  got  to  a 
been  here  with  you,  for  I think  Old  Black  Leg  would  a 
caught  the  other  feller,  afore  he  got  to  the  top  o’  th^ 
mountain.  ” 

“Black  Leg”  was  Uncle  Kit’s  pet  name  for  his  rifle 

That  night,  before  going  to  bed,  Uncle  Kit  said  w*5 
must  be  up  early  next  morning,  as  he  and  Hughes  would 
have  to  make  another  trip  to  the  cache,  and  that  I must 
tend  to  the  traps  and  keep  a sharp  lookout  for  Indians 
“But  whatever  happens,”  he  said,  “don’t  ever  be  taken 
prisoner.  ” 

They  started  very  early  the  next  morning,  and  as 
soon  as  it  was  light  I struck  out  to  examine  the  traps. 
From  the  twelve  I took  nine  beaver,  skinned  them,  reset 
the  traps,  returned  to  the  dug-out  and  stretched  the 
skins. 

The  stretching  is  done  by  making  a bow  of  a small 
willow  or  other  pliant  wood,  for  each  hide,  and  then  pull- 
ing the  hide  over  it.  The  hides  are  thus  left  until  they 
are  dry,  when  the  bows  are  taken  out  and  the  hides  are 
packed  in  a frame  made  for  that  purpose,  fifty  in  a bale 

All  of  this  kind  of  work  I had  learned  at  Bent’s  Fort, 
while  there,  from  the  many  trappers  there.  Besides, 
Uncle  Kit  had  given  me  other  lessons  in  the  work. 

Uncle  Kit  and  Mr.  Hughes  made  a trip  to  the 


HUNTING  ELK. 


57 


cache  every  other  day  until  the  stuff  was  all  packed 
up  to  our  winter  quarters. 

I had  my  hands  full  attending  to  the  traps,  as  the 
men  brought  more  of  them  on  the  second  trip,  aud  they 
set  enough  of  them  to  make  double  work  for  me.  One 
dozen  traps  is  called  a “string,”  and  it  is  considered  one 
man’s  work,  ordinarily,  to  “tend  a string.” 

The  two  men  brought  all  the  stnff  up  from  the  cache 
in  five  trips.  On  the  day  the  last  trip  was  made,  I went 
out  early,  as  usual,  to  attend  to  the  traps,  of  which  we  had 
thirty-six.  That  morning  I took  twenty-three  beaver, 
and  seeing  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  skin 
them  all,  I set  about  to  carry  them  to  the  dug-out.  If 
ever  a boy  worked,  I did  that  day,  and  had  just  got 
through  carrying  them  in  when  Uncle  Kit  and  Mr. 
Hughes  returned. 

After  we  had  got  caught  up  with  our  work  and  rested 
a few  days,  Uncle  Kit  said  one  morning  that  we  must  be 
out  early  next  day  and  get  our  work  done  so  that  we 
could  go  and  kill  some  elk.  “For,”  said  he,  “we  have 
got  to  have  meat  for  the  winter  and  we  must  have  some 
hides  for  beds.” 

In  those  days  the  trappers  made  their  beds  by  first 
constructing  a frame  or  rough  bedstand,  over  which  they 
stretched  a green  elk  hide,  securing  that  by  thongs  or 
strings  cut  from  a green  deer  skin.  By  lying  on  these  at 
Once,  Defore  they  are  dry,  they  get  shaped  to  the  body 
^nd  they  make  a first-class  bed  for  comfort. 

We  were  out  early  to  the  traps  next  morning,  and 
the  catch  being  somewhat  smaller  than  usual,  we  got 


58 


PLENTY  OF  MEAT. 


through  by  II  o’clock,  and  after  eating  a “snack”— -3 
lunch — we  started  on  the  elk  hunt. 

After  going  about  four  miles  we  jumped  up  a band  of 
fifty  elk,  which  was  considered  a small  herd  then.  But 
we  didn’t  get  close  enough  to  shoot  any  of  them. 

I ‘ ‘Let  ’em  go,  ” said  Uncle  Kit ; ‘ ‘no  doubt  they  will  go 
to  the;  quaking-asp  grove,  and  we  can  git  ’em  to-mor- 
row.” So  we  returned  to  camp  without  any  elk.  But 
the  next  morning  we  went  to  the  quaking-asp  thicket, 
and  there,  sure  enough,  we  found  the  same  band  of  elk, 
and  succeeded  in  killing  five  of  them.  Thus  we  had 
enough  meat  to  last  a year,  if  we  had  wanted  that  much, 
and  we  had  skins  enough  for  our  beds  and  moccasins  for 
the  winter. 

Now  we  were  in  no  danger  of  starving,  and  from  now 
on  we  could  devote  our  whole  attention  to  the  traps. 

I had  to  work  very  hard  that  winter,  but  I was  much 
better  contented  than  when  I was  with  Drake  and  in  the 
grasp  of  that  old  “nigger  wench.” 

Not  until  now  did  I tell  Uncle  Kit  of  the  prank  I 
played  on  the  black  tyrant.  I also  told  him  why  I was 
so  anxious  to  get  away  from  St.  Louis.  That  it  was  I 
feared  Drake  would  discover  me  and  take  me  back  to  his 
farm  and  the  society  of  his  slaves. 

Mr.  Hughes  here  interrupted  me  to  say:  “Well, 

Willie,  you  are  safe  enough  from  Drake  and  the  wench, 
j but  I think  by  the  time  you  get  out  o’  here  in  the  spring, 
you  would  much  rather  be  with  them.” 

I assured  him,  however,  that  he  was  mistaken,  anc? 
that  I was  bent  on  being  a hunter  and  trapper. 

“And  an  Indian  fighter?”  he  added. 


OFF  FOR  TAOS. 


59 


“Yes,  and  an  Indian  fighter,  too,  if  you  like;”  I re- 
plied. 

Well,  we  remained  at  this  camp  all  winter,  not  see- 
ing a person  untside  of  our  own  crowd,  and  to  take  it  on 
the  whole,  it  was  one  of  the  most  enjoyable  winters  of 
my  life.  It  being  my  first  winter  in  the  mountains,  I 
was  learning  something  new  every  day,  and  whenever  1 
found  the  track  of  any  wild  animal  that  I was  not  ac- 
quainted with,  I would  report  to  Uncle  Kit,  and  he 
would  go  miles  with  me  to  see  the  sign,  and  would 
take  great  pains  to  tell  me  what  sort  of  an  animal  it 
was  and  all  about  its  nature  and  habits. 

This  was  one  of  the  most  successful  winter’s  trap- 
ping he  had  ever  had,  as  we  were  on  entirely  new  ground, 
where  trapping  had  not  been  done  before,  and,  more- 
over, the  weather  was  particularly  favorable. 

Winter  began  to  break  up  about  a month  earlier  than 
usual,  it  being  toward  the  last  days  of  March  when  the 
snow  commenced  going  off.  We  then  took  a pair  of 
blankets  each,  and  enough  provisions  to  last  us  on  our  trip, 
and  started  for  Taos,  the  only  kind  of  provisions  we  had 
left  being  dried  elk  and  venison.  It  was  an  easy  matter 
to  cure  meat  in  this  style  in  that  country,  for  the  air  is  so 
light  that  meat  stuck  upon  the  top  of  a pole  eight  or  ten 
feet  high,  will  quickly  become  dried,  or  “jerked. 
Trappers  seldom  take  enough  flour  and  coffee  to  last  all 
winter,  as  it  made  too  much  bulk  and  weight  to  pack  so 
far.  Sugar  was  almost  unknown  in  a trapper  camp. 

The  second  day  after  leaving  the  dug-out  we  met 
Juan,  the  Maxican  boy.  He  was  not  bringing  our 
horses,  but  was  carrying  a letter  for  Uncle  Kit,  trom 


6o 


MEET  COL.  FREMONT. 


Col.  John  C.  Fremont,  asking  him  to  come  to  Taos, 
as  he  wished  to  employ  him  as  guide  for  his  expedi- 
tion to  California. 

That  evening,  after  reading  the  letter,  Uncle  Kit 
said:  “Willie,  I have  got  to  go  to  California  in  the 

summer  to  pilot  Col.  Fremont  through.  Do  you  want 
to  go  along?” 

I said  I was  perfectly  willing  to  go  anywhere  that 
he  went. 

He  said:  “We  will  pass  through  some  mighty 

rough  country,  and  also  through  the  country  of  the 
Utes.  If  you  go,  you  will,  no  doubt,  have  plenty  of 
chances  to  try  your  hand  at  shootin’  Injuns,  for  them 
Utes  are  tough  nuts.” 

That  didn’t  scare  me  a bit,  for  I was  now  sixteen 
years’  old,  had  killed  and  scalped  two  Indians,  and  had 
already  begun  to  consider  myself  a hunter  and  Indian 
fighter  from  away  back.  Besides,  when  the  story  of 
my  killing  the  two  Indians  got  out,  I came  to  be  gen- 
erally called  “the  boy  scalper.”  But  Uncle  Kit  never 
spoke  of  me  in  that  way,  for  he  always  respected  me  as 
a father  would  his  own  son. 

Now  Uncle  Kit  was  anxious  to  reach  Taos  and  meet 
Col.  Fremont,  so  we  pushed  on  with  all  possible  speed 
until  the  third  day  from  where  we  met  Juan  with  the  let- 
ter, we  met  Col.  Fremont  at  the  crossing  of  the  Ark- 
ansas river.  He  had  became  over-anxious  and  had 
started  out  to  meet  us. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon,  so  we  went  into  camp  and 
had  supper,  which  consisted  of  dried  venison  and  water, 


ARRANGEMENTS  MADE 


6l 


but  for  breakfast  we  had  a change  of  diet,  which  was 
dried  elk  and  water. 

We  learned  that  Col.  Fremont  had  been  detailed  the 
summer  before  by  the  government  to  command  an  ex- 
ploring expedition  across  the  continent,  and,  if  possible, 
find  a better  route  from  the  “States”  to  California. 

It  leaked  out  that  some  of  the  trappers  who  did  not 
like  to  have  him  in  the  neighborhood  of  Bent’s  Fort,  for 
their  own  selfish  motives,  had  misinformed  him  that  first 
summer  out,  as  to  the  lay  of  the  country,  hoping  thereby 
to  mislead  him  and  his  company  into  the  mountains, 
where  they  would  get  snowed  in  and  die  of  strvation. 

Fremont  and  his  party,  consisting  of  twenty-eight 
men,  had  started  up  the  Black  Canyon,  and  they  did  get 
snowed  in  and  had  to  stop  for  the  winter. 

They  ran  out  of  provisions  and  killed  and  ate  some 
of  their  horses,  but  the  other  horses  died  of  starvation 
and  six  of  the  men  died  of  scurvy. 

It  being  late  when  the  Fremont  party  got  into  the 
mountains,  and  the  snow-fall  being  very  deep,  the  game 
went  early  to  the  lowlands  and  the  men  were  forced  to 
live  on  salt  bacon  and  horse  flesh.  Even  that  became 
scarce  and  the  entire  company  came  near  perishing  be- 
fore spring. 

In  the  camp  with  Col.  Fremont  that  evening  Uncle 
Kit  and  he  made  their  bargain.  Carson  was  to  furnish 
all  the  horses  and  was  to  have  the  right  to  take  as  many 
extra  men  and  horses  as  he  liked,  also  the  right  to  trade 
for  furs  and  send  his  men  and  their  horses  back  whenever 
he  desired  to  do  so. 

After  eating  heartily  of  the  dried  venison  and  hearing 


62 


TO  PILOT  HIM 


Col.  Fremont’s  story  of  the  dreadful  experiences  of  his 
party  in  the  Black  Canyon,  it  was  bedtime,  and  each 
man  rolled  himself  in  his  blankets  and  soon  all  were 
sleeping,  as  tired  men  can,  out  on  the  plains. 

We  had  an  early  breakfast,  each  man’s  hunk  of  dried 
meat  being  handy,  so  there  was  really  no  preparation  to 
be  made,  except  to  wash.  No  compulsion,  however,  as 
to  that.  But  having  distinguished  company,  all  hands 
washed  this  morning  before  squatting  for  breakfast. 

While  we  were  eating,  Fremont  asked  whose  boy  I 
was.  Uncle  Kit  replied  that  I was  his  boy,  and  “a  first- 
class  hunter  and  trapper,  and  he  shoots  Injuns  purty 
well,  too.”  He  then  related  the  incident  of  my  killing 
the  two  Utes. 

All  arrangements  having  been  made,  Uncle  Kit  agree- 
ing to  meet  Col.  Fremont  at  Bent’s  Fort  in  three  weeks, 
they  separated  and  we  pushed  on  for  Taos.  On  arriving 
there  Uucle  Kit  hired  two  Mexicans  to  go  back  with  Mr. 
Hughes  to  our  beaver  camp  and  get  the  furs,  and  he  gave 
instructions  to  take  the  furs  to  Santa  Fe  and  dispose  of 
them.  Uncle  Kit  then  employed  Juan  and  a Texan  boy 
named  John  West  to  assist  us  in  fitting  up  for  our  Cali- 
fornia trip.  So  at  the  end  of  three  weeks  we  met  Fre- 
mont at  Bent’s  Fort  as  per  agreement. 

Fremont’s  company  consisted  of  twenty-two  men, 
and  they  were,  beyond  doubt,  the  worst  looking  set  of 
men  I ever  saw.  Many  of  them  were  scarcely  able  to 
walk  from  the  effects  of  scurvy  and  they  were  generally 
knocked  out. 

We  had  taken  with  us  from  Taos  a pack-train  loaded 
with  vegetables,  such  as  potatoes,  onions  and  the  like,  and 


TO  CALIFORNIA. 


63 


after  Freemont’s  men  had  associated  with  those  vege- 
tables for  a few  days,  they  came  out  fresh  and  smiling 
and  were  able  to  travel. 

It  was  about  the  Middle  of  May,  1848,  that  we  left 
Bent’s  Fort  to  hunt  a new  route  to  the  golden  shores  of 
California. 

The  first  night  out  we  camped  at  Fountain  Qui  Bou- 
ille — pronounced  Koh-boo-yah — and  here  a little  incident 
occurred  that  created  much  fun  for  all  the  party  except 
one— that  was  me. 

As  soon  as  we  went  into  camp,  Carson  told  Johnnie 
West  and  me  to  let  Juan  take  our  horses  and  for  us  to  go 

out  and  kill 
some  meat. 

We  started 
out  in  oppo- 
sitedirections, 
and  I had  not 
gone  more 
than  a quarter 
of  a mile  when 
I saw  a small 
deer,  which  I 
shot,  threw  on 
m y shoulder 
and  pulled  for 
camp.  Only  a 
fewrods  on  the 
way  I came  to 

a little  mound  of  rock  about  three  feet  high,  and  from  it 
flowed  a spring  of  the  nicest  looking,  sparkling  water  I 


c I ^ 

But  a sudden  change  came  over  me. 


64 


THE  “PIZEN-SPRING.” 


thought  I had  ever  seen.  Being  very  thirsty,  I made  a 
cup  of  my  hat  by  pinching  the  rim  together,  dipped  up 
some  of  the  water  and  gulped  it  down,  not  waiting  to  see 
whether  it  was  hot  or  cold,  wet  or  dry.  But  a sudden 
change  came  over  me.  I felt  a forthwith  swelling  under 
the  waistband  of  my  buckskin  breeches,  and  I seemed  to 
have  an  internal  and  infernal  hurricane  of  gas,  which  in  a 
second  more  came  rushing  through  my  mouth  and  nostrils 
like  an  eruption  from  Cotopaxi  or  Popocatapel.  To  say 
that  I was  frightened  would  be  putting  it  mild.  I rushed 
down  the  hill  like  mad,  and  fairly  flew  to  camp  and  up  to 
Uncle  Kit,  exclaiming  as  best  I could,  “Pm  poisoned !M 

“Pizened?”  said  Uncle  Kit. 

“Yes,  poisoned;”  and  just  then  another  rush  of  ga- 
came  through  my  nostrils. 

When  the  men  saw  me  running  so  fast  they  grabbed 
their  guns,  thinking  the  Indians  were  after  me,  and 
quickly  surrounded  me  to  hear  what  was  the  matter. 

Uncle  Kit  asked  me  how  I got  poisoned,  and  I told 
him  of  the  spring  water  I had  drank,  and  asked  him  ii 
he  could  do  anything  to  save  my  life.  Then  there  was 
another  eruption. 

Uncle  Kit  laughed  harder  than  I had  ever  seen  him, 
but  he  told  me,  as  fast  as  he  could,  that  I had  drank 
from  a soda  spring  and  that  it  would  not  hurt  me.  Ev- 
erybody laughed  and  then  all  went  to  the  spring  to  ger 
some  of  the  “poisoned  water,”  which  was  very  good 
when  taken  in  reasonable  quantities  and  in  a reasonable 
way. 

My  gun,  deer  and  hat  were  all  lying  near  the  spring. 


NEAR  THE  SNOW-LINE. 


65 


and  I secured  them,  but  it  was  many  a day  before  I 
heard  the  last  of  the  ‘ ‘pizen-spring. ” 

Johnnie  West  came  in  soon  after,  having  missed  all 
the  /un,  and  Juan  and  I went  with  him,  taking  each  a 
hnr.-e,  and  packed  the  game  into  camp. 

I was  anxious  to  get  away  from  camp  on  that  little 
peeking  trip,  hoping  the  crowd  would  forget  all  about  the 
5 da-spring  before  I returned,  but  I hoped  in  vain,  for 

when  I re- 
turned they 
laughed  at  and 
joked  me 
more  than 
ever. 

We  traveled 
up  the  Arkan- 
sas river  near- 
ly a hundred 
miles,  and  as 
we  neared  the 
snow-line  the 
deer  and  elk 
were  more 
plentiful  and 
we  never  went 
hungry  for 
meat. 

At  Jimmie’s 
Fork  we 
turned  to  the 

left  and  followed  that  stream  to  its  head,  then  crossed 


Carson  would  climb  to  the  top  of  the  highest 
hill  to  look  for  Indian  camps. 


66 


MEET  APACHES. 


over  to  the  Blue  river,  which  is  a tributary  of  the  Colo- 
rado. Now  we  were  in  the  Ute  country,  and  had  to  keep 
a sharp  lookout  for  Indians.  Every  evening,  after  mak- 
ing camp,  Uncle  Kit  would  climb  to  the  top  of  the  high- 
est hill  near  us  to  look  for  Indian  camps,  as  it  was  an 
easy  matter  late  in  the  evening  to  discover  their  camps 
by  the  smoke  from  their  fires.  He  used  to  take  me 
along  with  him,  and  he  would  point  out  different  land- 
marks in  the  country  and  would  tell  me  to  make  close 
observations,  as  I would  have  to  return,  without  him, 
over  the  same  route  and  if  I were  not  careful  I might 
lose  my  way. 

On  the  third  day  after  crossing  the  divide,  we  met 
Tawson,  chief  of  the  Apache  tribes.  Tawson  had  never 
met  Carson  but  knew  him  by  reputation;  but  a number 
of  the  warriors  were  personally  acquainted  with  him. 

The  Indians  all  turned  about  and  rode  back  with  us 
to  their  village,  which  was  only  a short  distance  away. 

Uncle  Kit  being  able  to  speak  Spanish,  as  were  all 
the  Indians  in  that  country,  he  had  quite  a talk  with  the 
old  chief,  and  in  the  meantime  he  had  bought  all  the 
furs  the  Indians  had  to  sell. 

When  we  were  ready  to  start  frofri  the  village,  Car- 
son  said  in  Spanish: 

“Now,  Tawson,  I have  a1  ways  been  a friend  to  your 
tribe  and  I will  tell  you  what  I’m  going  to  do.  In  about 
one  moon  I will  start  this  boy  back  through  your  coun- 
try, with  the  horses  and  two  other  boys — referring  to 
Juan  and  West — and  if  anything  happens  to  them  while 
passing  through  your  country  [ will  hold  you  personally 
responsible.  ” 


Grand  Canon  and  Colorado  River,  Arizona. 


A SKIRMISH 


67 


The  chief  having  heard  a great  deal  of  Carson,  knew 
he  meant  just  what  he  said. 

The  third  day  after  leaving  the  Apache  village  we 
reached  the  Colorado  river,  and  we  had  a hard  time  find- 
ing a suitable  place  to  cross.  Finally  we  decided  to 
build  a raft  of  logs  and  ferry  our  stuff  on  that,  and  swim 
the  horses.  This  we  did  successfully,  and  also  cached 
the  furs  to  keep  them  safe  until  my  return. 

As  soon  as  we  crossed  the  river  we  began  to  see  signs 
of  the  Ute  Indians,  and  Uncle  Kit  told  me  to  keep  my 
rifle  in  trim  as  I might  need  it  soon. 

The  second  day  after  crossing  the  river,  about  4 
o’clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  just  as  we  had  gone  into 
camp,  a band  of  about  forty  Indians  made  a dash  for  our 
horses.  This  was  the  first  time  I had  ever  heard  the 
war-whoop,  and  it  fairly  made  my  hair  stand  on  end. 
Some  of  our  crowd  had  seen  the  Indians  while  yet  a dis- 
tance off,  and  when  the  men  yelled* ‘Indians!  boys,  “In- 
dians!” I made  a bee-line  for  Croppy,  who  had  by  this 
time  fed  himself  away  about  fifty  yards  from  camp. 
When  Col.  Fremont  saw  me  start  on  the  run,  he  asked 
me  where  I was  going.  I told  him  that  I was  going  for 
my  pony  as  I didn’t  intend  that  the  Utes  should  get  him. 

By  the  time  I got  to  Croppy  I could  see  the  Indians 
coming,  full  tilt,  and  some  of  the  men  had  already  fired 
upon  them.  I got  back  to  camp  as  fast  as  I could  get 
Croppy  to  go,  and  when  in  a few  yards  of  the  camp,  I 
took  a rest  off  of  his  back  and  fired,  but  I missed  my  In- 
dian. I reloaded  as  quickly  as  possible  and  laid  my  gun 
on  Croppy’s  back  again,  for  another  shot,  and  just  then  it 


68 


WITH  UTES. 


struck  me  that  the  reason  I missed  the  first  time  was 
because  I didn’t  take  good  aim. 

Uncle  Kit  had  always  taught  me  that  it  was  not  the 


fastest  shooting  in  an  ' - 
Indian  fight  that  did  the 
most  execution,  and 
that  it  was  better  to  fire 
one  shot  with  good  aim 
than  four  at  random. 

When  I went  to  shoot 
the  second  time,  Uncle 
Kit  was  near  me,  and  he 
said: 

‘ ‘Take  good  aim, 

Willie,  before  you  fire.” 

I did  take  good  aim  and  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
the  Indian  tumble  to  the  ground.  But  whether  I killed 
him  or  some  one  else  did,  I could  not  say,  for  an  abso- 
lute certainty,  but  I have  always  thought  he  belonged  to 
my  list. 

The  Indians  were  no  match  for  Col.  Fremont’s  men, 
being  only  armed  with  bows  and  arrows,  and  they  beat  a 
hasty  retreat,  closely  followed  for  a distance  by  the  sol- 
diers, who,  however,  did  not  get  any  Indians  on  the  run, 

When  the  men  returned  to  camp,  and,  as  usual,  aftei 


I took  a rest  off  of  his  back  and  fired. 


Hand  Rock,  Canon  de  Chelly.  Arizona. 


GOSHOOT  INDIANS. 


69 


a scrap  with  Indians,  were  telling  how  many  red-skins 
they  had  killed,  Uncle  Kit  turned  to  me  and  asked  how 
many  I had  got.  I said,  “one.” 

“Are  you  sure?”  he  asked. 

“Well,”  I said,  “I  took  a rest  off  of  Croppy’s  back; 
with  a good  aim,  at  the  crack  of  my  rifle,  the  Indiar 
came  down.” 

The  crowd  went  with  me  to  where  I had  seen  the  In- 
dian fall,  and  there  he  was,  as  useless  for  Indian  work 
as  Powhattan  is. 

Col.  Fremont  then  asked  the  soldiers  where  were 
their  dead  Indians,  and  Uncle  Kit  said: 

“I  reckon  Willie  is  the  only  one  that  get  his  man. 
Didn’t  I tell  you,  Colonel,  that  he  could  shoot  Injuns?” 

However,  after  looking  around  awhile,  he  found  five 
more  dead  Indians,  and,  doubtless,  more  were  killed  but 
were  carried  away  by  their  companions. 

The  only  harm  the  Indians  did  our  party  was  to 
wound  two  of  Fremont’s  men,  slightly. 

This  was  the  last  trouble  we  had  with  the  Utes  on 
the  trip. 

The  second  day  from  this  little  brush  we  struck  a vil- 
lage of  Goshoot  Indians,  and  there  Uncle  Kit  bought 
enough  furs  to  make  out  his  cargo. 

We  went  into  camp  here  for  the  night,  but  Uncle  Kit 
and  I did  not  sleep  much,  as  we  were  up  very  late,  as 
we  did  not  expect  to  meet  again  until  the  next  spring, 
and  he  had  a great  deal  to  tell  me  before  we  parted. 

The  following  morning  Johnnie  West,  Juan  and  I 
loaded  up  and  started  for  Santa  Fe,  and  Uncle  Kit  went 
on  to  Los  Angeles  with  Col.  Fremont,  as  guide. 


70 


OFF  FOR  SANTA  FE. 


Before  I left  camp  that  morning,  Col.  Fremont,  un- 
beknown to  Uncle  Kit,  came  to  me  and  said: 

'‘Willie,  in  about  a year  from  now  I will  be  on  my 
way  back  to  St.  Louis,  and  I will  take  you  home  with 
me  if  you  would  like  to  go.  I will  send  you  to  school 
and  make  a man  of  you.  You  are  too  good  a boy  to 
spend  your  life  here,  in  this  wild  country.” 

But  I told  him  I was  perfectly  satisfied  to  remain 
with  Kit  Carson. 

Had  Uncle  Kit  known  of  that  conversation  I think  he 
would  have  been  very  much  displeased,  and  it  might 
have  caused  serious  trouble.  Therefore  I kept  my  own 
counsel  and  did  not  mention  the  matter  to  Carson. 

Us  boys  were  four  weeks  making  the  return  trip  to 
Santa  Fe,  and  we  did  not  see  a hostile  Indian  on  the 
way.  I wondered  much  at  that,  but  a year  or  two  after- 
ward Uncle  Kit  told  me  that  the  Apaches  saw  us  every 
day  and  were  protecting  us,  for  he  had  seen  Tawson  on 
his  return  and  the  chief  told  him  that  we  had  gone 
through  safe. 

We  arrived  at  Santa  Fe  about  the  first  of  October, 
and  there  I met  Jim  Hughes,  who  was  waiting  our  ar- 
rival,  and  I was  very  glad  to  see  him.  I gave  him  a let- 
ter that  Uncle  Kit  had  sent  him  concerning  our  trapping 
for  the  coming  winter. 

Mr.  Hughes  said  that  he  was  glad  that  we  had  got 
back  so  early,  for  it  was  time  we  were  getting  into  the 
mountains  for  our  winter  work. 

I asked  him  if  we  would  trap  in  the  same  place  as 
the  winter  before,  and  he  said  we  would  not,  as  he  had 
brought  all  the  traps  out  to  Taos,  and  we  would  go  the 


Canon  de  Chelly,  Arizona. 


- • ' 


NEW  TRAPPING  GROUND. 


71 


next  winter  up  to  North  Park,  as  he  had  just  returned 
from  there  and  knew  we  could  put  in  a good  winter’s 
work,  as  it  was  new  trapping  ground  that  had  not  been 
worked,  and  it  was  a fine  country,  too. 

Soon  as  we  had  got  rid  of  our  furs,  which  ]VL 
Hughes  had  sold  before  our  arrival,  we  pulled  out  for 
Taos  and  begun  operations  for  going  to  North  Park. 

All  being  in  readiness  in  a few  days  thereafter,  Mr. 
Hughes,  Johnnie  Wesf  ± started  for  the  new  trap- 
ping ground,  taking  juan  along,  again,  to  fetch  our 
horses  home.  We  had  to  travel  over  some  rough  coun- 
try on  the  way,  but  found  the  North  Park  a fine  region, 
w S.t  scattering  pine  timber  on  the  hills  and  quaking-asp 
and  willows  along  the  streams.  I have  been  told  that 
this  park  is  now  owned  by  sheep  men,  and  it  is  an  excel- 
lent region  for  their  business. 

After  looking  around  over  our  trapping  field  Mr. 
Hughes  selected  a suitable  place  Aor  our  winter  cabin, 
and  we  fell  to  work  building  it.  This  time  we  built  en- 
tirely above  ground  with  pine  logs,  an  unusual  thing  for 
trappers  to  do. 

As  soon  as  our  cabin  was  built,  Juan  returned  to 
Taos  with  the  horses  and  we  set  into  our  winter’s  em- 
ployment. 

In  those  days  hunters  never  wore  boots  or  shoes,  but 
moccasins  from  the  tanned  hides  of  elk.  This  winter  we 
made  enough  gloves  and  moccasins  to  last  us  for  two 
years,  and  each  made  himself  a buckskin  suit,  out  and 

out. 

Game  was  very  plentiful  in  that  country,  such  as 


72 


A BIG  UNDERTAKING. 


moose,  elk  and  deer,  and  early  in  the  winter  a few  moun- 
tain buffalo. 

We  were  successful  this  winter,  our  beaver  catch 
being  nearly  eight  hundred.  The  winter  was  also  an 
unusually  long  one,  lasting  until  far  into  April. 

After  the  snow  had  gone  off  so  that  we  could  travel, 
Jim  Hughes,  who  had  been  our  foreman,  in  the  absence 
of  Carson,  asked  me  if  I thought  I could  find  the  way 
back  to  Taos,  which  I said  I could.  He  said  that  one  of 
us  would  have  to  go  and  get  our  horses  to  pack  the  furs 
in  on. 

It  was  now  the  spring  of  1849  and  I was  seventeen 
years  old,  but  it  looked  tb  me  to  be  a big  undertaking 
for  a boy  of  my  age,  a trip  of  three  hundred  miles,  afoot 
and  alone,  with  my  rifle  and  blankets;  but  some  one  had 
to  go,  and  I agreed  to  tackle  the  trip. 

This  was  on  Saturday,  and  as  we  never  worked  on 
Sundays,  except  to  tend  the  traps,  Mr.  Hughes  and  John- 
nie West  talked  the  matter  over  and  decided  that  be- 
fore I started  away  we  had  better  cache  the  furs  and 
such  traps  as  they  would  not  use  in  my  absence.  This 
was  done,  so  that  in  the  event  of  their  being  killed  by  the 
Indians,  I could  find  the  furs  on  my  return.  It  was  a 
wise  conclusion,  as  will  be  seen  later  on. 

It  was  the  custom  of  the  Utes  to  cross  over  the  moun- 
tains in  small  squads  every  spring  and  kill  all  the  trap- 
pers they  could  find  and  take  their  traps  and  furs. 

On  Monday  morning  we  all  set  about  to  cache  the  furs 
and  traps  that  would  not  be  used,  and  it  took  two 
days  hard  work  to  accomplish  the  task.  Then  I made 
preparations  to  start  on  my  journey  to  Taos. 


The  Indians  were  in  sight  of  the  cabin  and  raised  the  war  whoop.  Page  73 


TAKEN  BY  SURPRISE. 


73 


Mr.  Hughes  thought  that  as  it  would  be  a long  and 
tedious  trip,  I had  better  rest  up  a day  or  two  before 
starting,  but  I thought  that  as  I had  to  make  the  trip  I 
might  as  well  begin  first  as  last,  so  Wednesday  morning 
was  set  as  the  time  for  my  start. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


A winter  in  North  Park. — Running  fight  with  a 

BAND  OF  UTES  FOR  MORE  THAN  A HUNDRED  MILES, 
ENDING  HAND  TO  HAND. VICTORY. 


On  the  day  set  for  my  departure,  having  had  our 
breakfast,  Mr.  Hughes  stepped  outside  of  the  cabin,  and  I 
was  just  rolling  up  my  blankets  and  a piece  of  dried  veni- 
son, and  Johnnie  West  was  sympathizing  with  me  over 
the  long  and  lonesome  trip  that  was  before  me,  when  all 
of  a sudden  Mr.  Hughes  came  bounding  into  the  cabin 
and  exclaimed: 

“Get  your  guns  and  knives,  boys.  The  Indians  are 
upon  us  and  we  must  run  for  our  lives.’1 

Each  man  sprang  for  his  gun,  and  by  this  time  the 
Indians  were  in  sight  of  the  cabin  and  had  raised  the 
war-whoop,  which,  again,  raised  the  hair  on  the  head  of 
your  humble  servant. 


74 


RUNNING  FIGHT 


We  made  for  the  top  of  the  hill,  which  was  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  from  the  cabin,  and  stopped. 
The  Indians  were  by  this  time  at  the  cabin.  Johnnie 
West  counted  them  and  said  there  were  twenty-seven  all 
told. 

We  each  fired  a shot  among  them,  but  could  not  tell 
whether  we  killed  any  of  them  or  not.  We  then  started 
on  the  run,  loading  our  guns  as  we  ran,  the  Indians  in 
hot  pursuit  of  us. 

After  running  about  two  miles,  Jonnie  West  proposed 
that  we  make  a stand.  We  stopped  on  a little  ridge,  and 
did  not  have  to  wait  long  until  the  Indians  were  in  gun- 
shot of  us. 

"Now,  Willie,”  said  Mr.  Hughes,  "don’t  get  excited 
and  shoot  too  quick,  but  take  good  aim  and  be  sure  that 
you  get  your  Indian.” 

As  they  came  up,  each  of  us  selected  our  Indian,  fired 
and  each  got  his  man.  In  a moment  the  smoke  from 
our  guns  had  cleared  away,  and  the  whole  band  being  in 
sight,  Mr.  Hughes  said: 

"Let’s  run  for  our  lives.  There  are  too  many  of 
them  for  us.”  And  run  we  did,  loading  as  we  flew. 

We  ran  about  five  miles  and  made  another  stand,  but 
not  with  the  same  success  as  before,  for  we  only  got  one 
Indian. 

We  had  a running  fight  all  that  day  and  made  three 
or  four  stands,  but  could  not  tell  how  many  Indians  we 
killed,  for  we  would  fire  at  them  and  then  load  our  gmxs 
on  the  run.  They  having  nothing  but  loose  arrows  and 
tomahawks,  we  could  easily  keep  out  of  danger.  But 
they  figured  on  running  us  down. 


WITH  BAND  OF  UTES 


75 


That  evening  near  sundown,  Mr.  Hughes  asked  me, 
as  I was  a little  faster  on  foot  than  the  rest,  to  drop  back 
far  enough  to  count  them,  which  I did,  and  found  there 
were  eleven  of  them  still  in  pursuit  of  us. 

When  they  saw  me  behind  the  other  two  they  started 
the  war-whoop  and  did  their  best  to  overtake  me,  no 
doubt  thinking  I was  tired  out  and  that  the  other  two 
had  left  me.  But  they  were  disappointed  when  I ran  on 
and  overtook  my  friends. 

We  were  now  in  sight  of  a large  body  of  timber,  and 
Mr.  Hughes  thought  that  if  we  could  reach  that  by 
dark  we  might  be  able  to  dodge  the  Indians  and  get  away 
from  them. 

We  reached  the  timber  just  at  dark  and  tried  very 
hard  to  dodge  our  pursuers,  but  it  seemed  as  though  they 
could  scent  us  like  blood-hounds,  for  we  would  no  more 
than  get  stopped  and  lie  down  to  rest,  when  they  would 
be  upon  us. 

A number  of  times  during  the  night  we  would  build 
up  a fire  and  then  go  a hundred  yards  or  so  from  it  and 
lie  down  to  rest,  but  the  redskinned  devils  kept  close  to 
us,  and,  conseqently,  we  got  but  little  rest  during  the 
night. 

The  following  morning  we  left  the  timber  and  took  to 
the  prairie.  After  running  some  four  miles  we  looked 
back  and  saw  four  Indians  very  near  to  us  and  gaining  at 
every  step.  Johnnie  West  proposed  that  we  stop  and 
accommodate  them,  saying  that  he  felt  hungry  and  tired 
enough  to  fight  any  two  Indians  in  the  band.  So  each 
man  selected  his  Indian  and  fired,  and  we  succeeded  in 
killing  two  of  them;  the  remaining  two  hid  behind  some 


76 


FOR  MORE  THAN 


big  rocks  until  the  others  came  up,  and  again  we  were 
compelled  to  flee. 

We  ran  for  about  two  hours,  when  we  stopped  and 
made  another  fight  and  killed  two  more  Indians.  This 
was  kept  up  until  late  in  the  afternoon,  which  made  twc 
days  and  one  night  that  we  had  been  chased  by  these 
savages,  with  not  a bite  to  eat  during  the  whole  time, 
and  we  were  getting  so  tired  that  we  could  scarcely  raise 
the  trot. 

We  were  now  running  down  a long  slope,  when  1 
looked  at  Mr.  Hughes  and  could  see  a change  in  hk 
countenance.  There  was  an  expression  different  frorr, 
that  which  I had  ever  seen  on  his  face  before.  Jusl 
about  a half  mile  ahead  of  us  down  a little  flat,  was  d 
wash-out,  and  Mr.  Hughes  said: 

‘ ‘Right  down  there  by  that  little  bunch  of  willows,  at 
that  wash-out,  is  where  I intend  to  make  my  last  fight. 
Now  you  boys  can  do  as  you  please,  but  I am  exhausted 
and  can  go  no  further.” 

Before  we  got  to  the  wash-out,  Johnnie  West  told 
Mr.  Hughes  to  run  straight  for  the  patch  of  willows,  also 
telling  me  to  turn  to  the  right,  while  he  took  to  the  left, 
and  as  soon  as  we  were  in  the  wash-out  for  me  to  run  to 
where  Mr.  Hughes  was.  This  was  to  be  done  to  cause 
the  Indians  to  scatter  so  they  would  not  all  be  on  us  al 
once,  there  now  being  seven  of  them  in  the  gang. 

Johnnie  West  told  me  to  take  a bandy-shanked  fel- 
low on  the  left  and  he  would  take  one  who  had  two 
feathers  in  his  hair. 

“All  right,”  said  Mr.  Hughes,  “and  Til  tak*  the 
leader.  ” 


I threw  up  my  left  arm  and  received  a severe  cut  in  the  wrist.  Page  77 


ONE  HUNDRED  MILES. 


77 


We  all  took  good  aim  and  each  of  us  brought  down 
his  Indian,  but  we  did  not  have  time  to  load  before  the 
others  were  upon  us,  and  it  ended  in  a hand-to-hand 
fight,  besides  it  got  to  where  each  man  had  to  look  out 
for  himself. 

One  of  the  Indians  came  straight  for  me  and  dealt 
me  a desperate  blow  with  his  tomahawk,  but  I threw  up 
my  left  hand  and  received  a severe  cut  in  my  wrist — the 


mark  of  which  I carry  to  Ihis  day — at  the  same  time  I 
struck  him  with  my  knife  and  almost  cut  him  in  two. 


78 


HAND-TO-HAND  FIGHT, 


As  he  was  falling  he  threw  his  tomahawk  at  me  with  all 
the  vengeance  in  him,  but  missed  my  head  and  struck  a 
rock  just  behind  me.  I sprang  at  once  and  picked  it  up. 

Mr.  Hughes  was  fighting  one  of  the  Indians;  the 
other  two  had  attacked  Johnnie  West,  who  was  on  his 
back  with  his  head  against  the  bank  of  the  wash-out, 
and  they  were  trying  to  get  a chance  to  deal  him  a blow, 
but  he  was  kicking  at  them  with  both  feet  and  was  strik- 
ing so  fast  with  his  knife  that  they  had  not  yet  been 
able  to  get  a lick  in  on  him. 

They  were  so  busily  engaged  with  Johnnie  that  I 
sprang  at  once,  unseen  by  them,  and  buried  the  toma- 
hawk so  deep  in  the  head  of  one  of  them  that  I was  un- 
able, for  the  moment,  to  recover  it.  As  soon  as  my  In- 
dian was  out  of  the  way,  Johnnie  was  on  his  feet,  quick 
as  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  and  stabbed  the  remaining 
one  through  the  heart  with  his  hunting-knife. 

In  the  meantime  Mr.  Hughes  was  having  a hard  fight 
with  his  Indian.  He  succeeded  in  killing  the  red  fiend 
but  got  badly  used  up.  He  had  a severe  wound  in  the 
shoulder,  also  one  in  the  thigh.  I received  a cut  in 
the  wrist,  and  Johnnie  West  did  not  not  get  a severe 
wound,  in  fact  but  little  more  than  a scratch. 

The  fight  and  flight  being  now  ended,  we  went  a 
few  rods  to  a little  clump  of  pine  trees,  where  Mr. 
Hughes  dropped  down  and  said:  “Boys,  there’s  no  use 

of  talking,  I can’t  go  any  further;  I think  I have  done 
my  last  trappin’  and  Injun  fightin’.” 

I gathered  some  limbs  and  chunks  and  started  a fire, 
while  Johunie  pulled  Mr.  Hughes’  moccasins  off  and 


A MUCH-NEEDED  MEAL. 


79 


bathed  his  feet  and  legs  with  cold  water.  They  were 
swollen  almost  to  twice  their  usual  size. 

The  fire  being  started,  Johnnie  proposed  that  we  lie 
down  and  take  a nap  and  a rest  before  starting  out  to 
hunt  for  meat,  saying  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  stand 
on  his  feet  any  longer.  * ‘My  legs,”  said  he,  “are  swol- 
len clear  to  my  body.”  I was  too  hungry  to  sleep,  so  1 
proposed  that  Johnnie  stay  and  care  for  Mr.  Hughes  and 
I would  take  my  gun  and  go  out  and  kill  some  game,  which 
was  plentiful  in  this  part  of  the  country.  I had  not  gone 
more  than  a quarter  of  a mile  when  I looked  up  the  ridge 
and  saw  a small  deer  coming  down  almost  in  the  direc- 
tion of  where  I stood,  and  never  before  in  my  life  had  I 
cast  my  eyes  on  a living  animal  that  pleased  me  so  much 
as  did  that  one.  I waited  until  he  was  in  gunshot  and 
fired.  It  ran  about  one  hundred  yards  in  the  direction 
of  camp  and  fell  dead.  I dressed  it,  cut  off  its  head  and 
carried  it  to  camp,  and  it  was  all  I could  do  to  get  along 
with  it  in  my  half-famished  condition. 

I found  Hughes  and  West  both  sound  asleep  by  the 
fire.  It  was  not  long  before  I had  some  of  the  venison 
cooked,  and  I had  it  fashionably  rare,  at  that.  After  I 
had  wakened  my  companions  and  we  had  broiled  and 
eaten  venison  for  a time,  Johnnie  and  I rolled  some  logs 
together  and  gathered  pine  knots  and  made  a good  fire. 
Then  we  broiled  more  venison  and  ate  again,  until  we 
got  sleepy  and  fell  over  by  the  side  of  the  fire,  lost  to 
ourselves  and  Indians.  During  the  night  we  all  woke 
up  again,  cooked  and  ate  as  long  as  we  could  keep  our 
eyes  open,  and  by  sun-up  next  morning  there  was  not 
enough  of  that  little  deer  left  to  feed  a cat. 


8o 


ARRIVE  AT  TAOS. 


We  found  ourselves  very  sore  and  stiff  from  the  ef- 
fects of  our  run,  but  Mr.  Hughes  thought  we  were  about 
one  hundred  miles  nearer  Taos  than  when  we  started,  as 
we  had  been  rnnning  most  of  the  time  in  that  direction, 
and  this  was  some  consolation. 

We  remained  here  and  rested  two  days,  and  as  game 
was  plentiful  we  did  not  have  to  go  far  from  the  camp  to 
get  all  the  meat  we  wanted. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  we  started  for  Taos, 
which  was  about  two  hundred  miles  away,  but  all  being 
so  badly  worn  out  and  Mr.  Hughes  having  such  severe 
wounds,  we  had  to  travel  slowly,  it  taking  us  about  two 
weeks  to  make  the  trip.  But  we  had  no  more  trouble 
with  the  Indians. 

At  Taos  we  met  Uncle  Kit  Carson,  who  had  been 
waiting  our  arrival  for  two  weeks.  After  resting  up  for 
a few  days,  Uncle  Kit,  Johnnie  West  and  myself  started 
for  North  Park  to  pack  out  the  furs.  Mr.  Hughes  stayed 
at  Taos,  as  he  was  too  badly  wounded  to  accompany  us 
on  the  trip. 

On  our  arrival  at  North  Park  we  found  everything 
just  as  we  had  left  it,  except  that  the  traps,  which  we 
had  not  cached  with  the  furs,  had  been  stolen. 

On  our  return  trip  we  camped  one  evening  in  a beau- 
tiful little  valley  where  the  grass  was  knee  high,  and 
along  the  little  stream  were  green  quaking-asp,  alder  and 
willows,  with  scattering  pine  trees  here  and  there  on  the 
hills  and  in  the  valley.  About  sundown  that  evening 
the  horses  commenced  to  show  signs  of  uneasiness  and 
occasionally  they  would  raise  their  heads  and  look  in  the 
direction  of  a little  pine  grove  near  by,  and  snort. 


f 


FIGHT  WITH  PANTHER. 


8l 


Johnnie  West,  being  the  first  to  notice  it,  said:  ‘‘Kit, 

what  is  the  matter  with  the  horses?  I believe  there  are 
Indians  around.” 

“I  don’t  think  so,”  said  Carson,  “for  I havn’t  seen 


taking  with  him  neither  his  gun  or  his  pistol,  which  was 
a rare  thing  for  him  to  do.  Just  as  he  was  passing  around 


82 


DISPOSED  OF  FURS. 


a pine  tree  a panther  sprang  at  him  from  the  tree.  Cm 
hearing  the  rustle  in  the  limbs,  Carson  jumped  back  ircm 
the  tree  as  far  as  he  could  and  thus  avoided  the  full  force 
of  the  blow  from  the  panther.  As  he  jumped  back  he 
drew  his  knife  and  had  a hand-to-hand  fight  with  the 
huge  feline  and  succeeded  in  killing  it. 

Johnnie  and  I sat  at  the  camp-fire,  knowing  nothing 
of  the  affair  until  Uncle  Kit  came  in,  covered  with  blood 
from  head  to  foot,  and  his  heavy  buckskin  shirt,  which 
had  no  doubt  been  the  means  of  saving  his  life,  was  torn 
almost  into  strings.  When  he  told  us  he  had  been  en- 
gaged in  a fight  with  some  kind  of  a wild  animal,  John- 
nie asked  why  he  did  not  call  for  help,  and  his  reply  was 
that  he  did  not  have  time  to  call  as  he  had  his  hands  full 
with  the  ‘ 'varmint.” 

After  we  had  dressed  his  wounds  as  best  we  could, 
we  took  a torch  and  went  to  the  foot  of  the  pine  tree, 
and  there  lay  the  panther,  dead.  He  had  stabbed  it  to 
the  heart. 

Uncle  Kit  had  a very  bad  wound  in  one  thigh,  also  in 
one  arm,  so  we  did  not  move  camp  next  day,  but  the 
day  after  we  proceeded  on  our  journey.  We  took  our 
furs  to  Santa  Fe,  where  we  disposed  of  them  at  a good 
price,  furs  being  higher  that  season  than  usual. 

Our  furs  being  disposed  of  we  returned  to  Taos  and 
rested  for  about  two  weeks. 


Powder  Face  and  Squaw,  Arapahoes, 


Cache-la- Poudre. 


83 


CHAPTER  V. 


On  the  Cache-la-Poudre. — Visit  from  Gray  Eagle, 

CHIEF  OF  THE  ArAPAHOES. A BEAR- HUNTER  IS 

HUNTED  BY  THE  BEAR. PHIL,  THE  CANNIBAL. 


Uncle  Kit,  having  made  quite  a sum  of  money,  con- 
cluded that  he  would  take  a trip  over  to  the  headwaters 
of  the  Cache-la-Poudre  to  look  for  a new  field  where  he 
could  trap  the  coming  winter  on  a large  scale,  and 
wanted  Johnnie  and  I to  accompany  him,  which  we  did. 

Each  taking  a saddle-horse  and  one  pack  animal,  we 
started  on  the  trip,  taking  a new  route  to  Uncle  Kit,  as 
well  as  to  Johnnie  and  myself. 

Carson  took  the  lead,  for,  like  a deer,  he  could  find 
his  way  anywhere  he  wished  to  go. 

We  crossed  the  Arkansas  river  above  Bent’s  Fort,  and 
from  here  we  traveled  along  the  foothills  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  striking  the  Platte  at  the  mouth  of  Cherry 
creek,  which  is  now  the  center  of  Denver  City,  Colo. 
Here  we  met  Mountain  Phil — of  whom  you  will  hear 
more  in  this  narrative.  He  was  living  in  awick-i-up  and 
had  a squaw  for  a wife.  Uncle  Kit  and  I,  being  ac- 
quainted with  him,  stopped  and  had  a chat  with  him 
while  our  horses  were  feeding.  Uncle  Kit  asked  him 
what  he  intended  to  do  the  coming  winter,  and  he  re- 
plied: 

“I  will  trap  for  you  if  you  like,  but  you  will  have  to 


84 


MEET  ARAPAHOES. 


furnish  me  with  an  outfit,  for  I have  none  of  my  own,” 
“All  right,  Phil,”  said  Carson,  “I  will  give  you  a job, 
but  you  will  have  to  stop  alone,  for  none  of  my  men  will 
live  with  you. 

“All  right,”  said  Phil,  “me  and  Klooch  will  be 
enough  to  stop  in  one  cabin,  anyway.” 

These  things  being  understood  we  rode  off,  Mountain 
Phil  agreeing  to  meet  us  at  Taos  about  two  months  from 
that  time. 

After  we  rode  away  I asked  Uncle  Kit  why  no  one 
would  live  with  Mountain  Phil.  His  reply  was,  “Phil  is 
a very  bad  man,  and  I yet  have  to  hear  the  first  man 
speak  a good  word  for  him.” 

Late  that  afternoon  we  saw  a little  band  of  Indians — 
ten  in  number — coming  toward  us,  and  when  near  them 
we  saw  that  they  were  Arapahoes  and  Gray  Eagle,  the 
chief,  was  with  them.  Uncle  Kit  being  well  acquainted, 
all  shook  hands,  and  the  chief  insisted  on  our  going 
to  their  camp  and  staying  all  night  with  them.  Uncle 
Kit  knowing  the  nature  of  the  Indians,  and  knowing  that 
Gray  Eagle  would  take  it  as  an  insult  if  we  should  refuse 
to  visit  him,  turned  about  and  went  home  with  him. 
He  sent  two  of  his  men  ahead  to  the  village,  and  we 
were  met  by  about  five  hundred  warriors  with  all  the 
women  and  children  of  the  village.  Just  at  the  outer 
edge  of  the  village  we  were  honored  with  what  they  con- 
sidered a great  reception. 

Gray  Eagle  took  us  to  his  own  wick-i-up,  his  men 
taking  charge  of  our  horses  and  packs.  I had  learned  to 
speak  the  Arapahoe  language  fairly  well  and  could  un- 
derstand anything  they  said.  When  supper  time  game. 


MORE  DOG  MEAT. 


85 


Gray  Eagle  came  to  Uncle  Kit  and  said:  4 ‘I  have  a great 

feast  for  you;  my  men  have  killed  a very  fat  dog;  sup- 
per is  ready,  come  in  and  eat.” 

I remarked  to  Uncle  Kit  as  we  were  going  to  supper, 
that  I was  very  glad  we  came  home  with  Gray  Eagle, 
for  it  had  been  a long  time  since  I had  had  a good  meal 
of  dog. 

Supper  being  over,  the  chief  got  his  pipe  and  selected 
six  men  from  his  tribe  and  we  had  a peace-smoke,  and 
he  and  Uncle  Kit  smoked  and  talked  nearly  all  night. 
During  their  conversation  that  night  he  said  that  Moun- 
tain Phil  was  a very  bad  man,  and  that  he  would  often 
steal  their  horses  and  sell  them  to  the  Comanches. 

Next  morning  after  breakfast  our  horses  were  brought 
in,  saddled  up  and  we  were  off  on  our  journey  again  to 
Cache-la-Poudre. 

It  might  be  of  interest  to  our  readers  to  know  how 
this  stream  acquired  its  name.  There  was  a Frenchman 
by  the  name  of  Virees  Roubidoux  camped  on  the  stream 
spoken  of,  with  a little  squad  of  men;  they  were  attacked 
by  a band  of  Indians,  and  the  first  word  uttered  by 
Roubidoux  was  “Cache-la-poudre,”  which  means  in  Eng- 
lish, “hide  the  powder,”  and  from  that  time  on  the 
stream  has  been  so  called. 

We  arrived  at  our  proposed  trapping  field,  and  after 
looking  over  the  country  we  found  plenty  of  beaver  sign 
along  the  streams  and  game  in  abundance,  and  Uncle 
Kit  decided  that  there  was  room  enough  for  four  camps. 

We  returned  by  the  way  of  Bent’s  Fort,  as  Uncle 
Kit  wished  to  employ  the  best  men  he  could  get  to  trap 
for  him  the  coming  winter.  On  our  way  to  the  fort, 


86 


INCREASING  THE  PARTY. 


which  was  four  hundred  miles  from  the  proposed  trapping 
ground,  Uncle  Kit  told  me  that  he  would  have  to  leave 
me  in  charge  the  coming  winter,  as  he  was  going  to  the 
City  of  Mexico  on  business,  but  said  that  he  would  come 
out  and  get  the  camps  established  and  return  to  Taos 
with  the  horses  before  going  there. 

We  found  plenty  of  men  at  Bent’s  Fort,  and,  as  usual, 
they  were  all  broke,  having  squandered  the  money 
earned  the  winter  before  for  whiskey  and  card  playing. 
Uncle  Kit  experienced  no  trouble  in  getting  all  the  men 
he  wanted,  but  had  to  furnish  them  with  traps  and  pro- 
visions— which  took  considerable  money— he  to  have 
half  of  the  furs  caught  by  each  of  them.  Everything 
being  understood  we  returned  to  Taos,  the  men  agreeing 
to  meet  us  there  two  weeks  later.  They  were  all  on 
hand  at  the  appointed  time,  but  there  being  a large  party 
to  outfit  it  took  some  weeks  to  make  preparations  for 
the  trip,  there  being  eleven  in  the  crowd.  It  was  about 
the  last  of  October  when  we  arrived  at  the  trapping- 
ground  ready  to  begin  work. 

There  was  a man  in  the  crowd  named  Charlie  Jones, 
who  was  an  old  friend  of  Johnnie  West,  and  they  and  I 
lived  in  the  same  cabin  that  winter.  One  morning  after 
we  had  got  fixed  up  comfortably  in  our  winter  quarters 
and  Uncle  Kit  had  returned  to  Taos  with  the  horses, 
Charlie  Jones  waked  us  up  very  early,  saying  that  there 
was  a light  snow  and  he  thought  we  would  be  able  to  get 
a bear  if  we  got  out  early.  We  rolled  out,  got  breakfast 
and  were  off  as  soon  as  it  was  light  enough  to  see. 

There  were  three  small  ridges,  all  pointing  to  our 
cabin;  Johnnie  West  took  up  the  right-hand  ridge,  Char- 


87 


CHASED  BY  A BEAR. 


lie  Jones  the  left  and  I the  middle  one.  The  ridges  were 
open,  with  scattering  pine  trees  here  and  there,  but  along 
the  creek  was  heavy  timber  and  a dense  growth  of  under- 
brush. While  walking  along  up  the  ridge,  keeping  a 
sharp  lookout  for  bear,  I came  in  sight  of  Johnnie  West, 
who  beckoned  me  to  cross  over  to  where  he  was,  saying 
that  in  the  thicket,  which  covered  about  an  acre  of 
ground,  there  was  a small  bear.  I proposed  calling 
Charlie  Jones  over  before  entering  the  thicket,  but  John- 
nie said  no,  as  it  was  such  a small  bear  that  Charlie 
would  get  mad  and  would  not  speak  to  either  of  us  for  a 
week  if  we  should  call  him  over  for  such  a little  bear, 
“and  if  we  cannot  kill  that  bear,”  he  continued,  “we 
had  better  quit  the  mountains.” 

We  both  cocked  our  guns  and  started  into  the  brush 
side  by  side.  When  near  the  center  of  the  thicket  I saw 
the  bear  raise  on  its  haunches.  The  snow  was  falling 
from  the  bushes  so  thickly  that  it  was  almost  impossible 
to  get  a bead  on  him,  but  I fired,  anyway,  and  hit  too 
low,  thus  failing  to  bring  him  down. 

He  made  a rush  for  us,  but  Johnnie  had  saved  his 
charge  in  case  I failed  to  kill,  but  snow  was  falling 
from  the  bushes  so  fast  and  thick  that  he  could  not  get 
a shot  at  the  bear  as  he  rushed  for  us,  so  we  were  both 
compelled  to  flee  for  our  lives,  Johnnie  to  the  hillside, 
while  I took  down  the  canyon,  jumping  the  small  logs 
and  falling  over  the  large  ones  and  riding  down  the 
brush,  while  I could  almost  feel  the  bear’s  breath  on  my 
posterior  at  every  jump,  and  had  it  not  been  that  West 
had  saved  his  charge,  you  would  now  be  reading  some 


88 


BADLY  SCARED. 


other  book — certainly  not  this  one,  as  it  would  never 
have  been  written. 

Just  as  we  crossed  a little  opening,  Johnnie  fired,  the 
ball  cutting  Bear’s  jugular  vein  and  also  his  wind- 
pipe, but  the  bear  still  seemed  to  have  a ‘ ‘hankering” 
after  me  and  kept  coming  for  several  yards. 

After  its  windpipe  was  severed,  the  bear  made  a 
louder  noise  than  ever,  but  not  knowing  the  cause,  I 
thought  he  was  nearer  me  and  I strained  every  nerve  and 
fibre  of  my  body  to  widen  the  distance  between  us,  as  I 
almost  imagined  his  teeth  clashing  down  on  me,  while 
Johnnie  West  was  yelling:  ‘‘Run,  Willie;  run  for  your 

life!” 

Well  I rather  think  I was  running  some  about  that 
time,  for  just  then  I came  to  a big  log,  and  I jumped, 
climbed  and  fell  over  it,  in  fact,  I never  knew  exactly 
how  I did  get  over  it;  however,  I fell  on  one  side  of  the 
log,  utterly  exhausted,  and  the  bear,  not  being  able  to 
get  over,  fell  on  the  other  side  and  died. 

Of  all  the  hunting  and  Indian  fighting  I have  ever 
done,  I never  had  anything  to  scare  me  as  did  that  little, 
insignificant  bear. 

Charlie  Jones,  hearing  the  two  shots  and  Johnnie  yel- 
ing  for  me  to  run,  came  to  the  scene  and  had  no  little 
fun  with  me  for  running  from  so  small  a bear,  saying: 
“If  a little  bear  like  that  were  to  come  at  me,  I would 
take  it  by  the  tail  and  beat  its  brains  out  against  a tree.” 

By  the  time  the  boys  got  the  bear  dressed,  I had  re- 
covered sufficiently  from  my  run  and  excitement  to  help 
carry  the  meat  to  the  cabin,  which  was  only  a few  rods 
away,  as  in  our  foot-race  we  had  been  running  in  the  di* 


I strained  every  nerve  and  fibre  in  my  body  to  widen  the  distance  betwen  us.  Page  88 


LEARNING  TO  READ. 


89 


rection  of  the  camp.  The  boys  had  a great  deal  of  sport 
at  my  expense,  and  many  times  during  the  winter  I was 
reminded  of  the  bear  hunt,  in  which  the  bear  hunted  me. 

After  we  had  got  everything  nicely  fixed  up  in  our 
new  quarters,  Johnnie  West  one  evening  got  down  his 
sachel,  took  out  a book  and  sat  and  read  till  bed  time. 
The  following  evening  when  he  took  the  book  up  again, 
I asked  him  what  he  was  reading,  and  he  said,  “Robin- 
Crusoe.”  I asked  him  why  he  did  not  read  aloud  so  the 
rest  of  us  could  hear, 
and  he  did  read  aloud 
until  bed  time.  I told 
him  I would  give  any- 
thing if  I could  read  as 
he  did.  So  he  said  if 
I would  try  to  learn, 
he  would  teach  me  to 
read  that  winter  as  good 
as  he  could.  I assured 
him  there  would  be 
nothing  lacking  on  my 
part,  so  the  next  night 
I took  my  first  lesson. 

At  that  time  I did  not 
know  all  the  letters,  but  I was  determined  to  learn  to 
read.  In  a very  short  time  I had  learned  all  my  letters, 
and  being  possessed  of  a great  memory,  I learned  very 
fast,  and  Johnnie,  seeing  I was  so  determined  in  the  mat- 
ter, spared  no  pains  in  teaching  me,  and  by  the  next 
spring  I could  read  Robinson  Crusoe  myself.  Having  a 
start,  I could  learn  of  my  own  accord,  and  to  Johnnie 


90 


Mountain  Phil. 


West  I am  greatly  indebted  for  the  limited  education  I 
now  possess;  and  were  he  now  living  I could  not  express 
to  him  my  gratitude  for  his  labors  as  my  tutor  in  that 
lonely  wilderness,  hundreds  of  miles  from  any  white 
man’s  habitation.  And,  although  my  education  is  quite 
limited,  yet  what  little  I do  possess  has  been  of  great 
value  to  me  through  life. 

We  had  good  success  trapping  this  winter,  until  about 
the  first  of  January,  when  we  had  an  unusual  heavy  fall 
of  snow  in  the  mountains  which  drove  all  the  gamb  to 
the  lowlands,  nothing  being  left  that  was  fit  for  meat  ex- 
cept a few  mountain  sheep,  and  the  snow  made  it  very 
inconvenient  getting  around  to  attend  to  the  traps.  In 
the  latter  part  of  February  I asked  Charlie  Jones  one  day 
to  go  down  to  Mountain  Phil’s  camp  and  see  if  there  was 
anything  that  he  wanted,  as  we  had  kept  all  the  extra 
supplies  at  our  camp.  Mountain  Phil  and  his  Klooch  — 
that  being  the  name  he  called  his  squaw,  which  is  also 
the  Arapahoe  name  for  wife — were  staying  alone  about 
ten  miles  further  down  the  country  from  where  we  were 
located. 

On  Charlie  Jones’  return,  he  said:  “It  seems  that 

Mountain  Phil  has  been  faring  better  than  any  of  us,  for 
he  has  been  able  to  kill  his  meat  at  camp,  thereby  saving 
him  the  trouble  of  having  to  get  out  and  hunt  for  it.” 

Johnnie  and  I did  not  understand  what  he  meant  by 
this.  So,  after  hesitating  a moment,  Jones  said: 
“Boys,  If  I should  tell  you  what  I know  about  Mountain 
Phil,  you  would  not  believe  it,  but  as  sure  as  you  live  he 
has  killed  his  squaw  and  eaten  most  of  her,  and  he  has 
left  his  camp.” 


the  American  Cannibal. 


9i 


We  insisted  that  he  must  be  mistaken,  but  he  de- 
clared that  he  was  not,  saying  he  had  seen  the  bones  in 
the  cabin,  aud  further  investigation  had  developed  the 
fact  that  he  had  beyond  any  doubt  killed  and  eaten  his 
Indian  wife. 

From  that  time  on,  Mountain  Phil  went  by  the  name 
of  the  American  Cannibal  until  his  death,  which  was — il 
my  memory  serves  me  right — in  1863  or  ’64,  at  Virginia 
City,  Mont. 

After  the  snow  had  settled  so  that  a person  could 
travel  on  top  of  it,  I took  my  gun  and  stole  out  one  day 
to  see  if  I could  not  kill  a mountain  sheep.  As  I clam- 
bered up  the  mountain  I looked  about  one  hundred  yards 
or  so  ahead  of  me  on  a cliff  of  rock,  and  saw  a panther, 
which  I supposed  was  looking  out  for  the  same  kind  of 
game  that  I was.  I fired  and  killed  her  the  first  shot 
and  started  to  skin  her,  when  I heard  the  kittens,  or 
young  panthers,  crying  up  in  the  rocks  near  where  I had 
shot  the  old  one.  My  first  thought  then  was  what  a nice 
pet  I would  have  if  I could  only  get  hold  of  those  young 
panthers.  I was  afraid  to  crawl  into  the  cave  for  fear 
the  other  old  panther  might  come  in  on  me,  so  I cut  a 
forked  stick  and  twisted  in  their  fur  and  in  that  way  man- 
aged to  pull  them  out,  all  the  time  keeping  a sharp  look- 
out for  the  other  old  one.  I took  the  two  young  panthers 
to  the  cabin  and  made  pets  of  them.  They  grew  to  be 
very  watchful;  nothing  could  move  without  their  know- 
ing it.  The  female  grew  to  be  very  tame,  and  a more 
affectionate  creature  I never  saw.  But  it  was  different 
with  the  male.  When  he  was  six  months  old  he  got  to 
be  very  cross,  and  I had  to  keep  him  tied  up.  One  day 


92 


A TRAINED  PANTHER. 


I went  out  to  feed  them  and  he  drew  back  and  slapped 
me,  and  I shot  him  on  the  spot  with  my  pistol.  The 

female  I kept 
until  she  was 
c o n s i derably 
over  a year 
o 1 d,  when  I 
sold  her  for 
one  hundred 
dollars  to  an 
Eng]  i s h m a n 
named  Mace, 
and  had  I 
only  known  it, 
that  panther 
was  worth  five 
hundred  dol- 
lars. I had 
taught  her 
many  tricks. 

She  could  count  ten,  by  putting  her  paw  on  the  ground 
ten  times,  and  would  do  various  other  tricks,  but  when 
asked  by  any  other  person  than  her  master  to  perform, 
she  would  shake  her  head  and  would  not  allow  any  one 
else  to.  touch  her.  I always  tied  her  up  when  going  out 
for  a hunt,  and  when  I would  return  she  would  cry  and 
scream  sc  shrill  that  it  would  almost  raise  the  hat  on  a 
man’s  head  until  I would  untie  her.  She  never  was  con- 
tented until  she  could  get  to  lick  my  face,  and  I never 
saw  a dog  more  watchful  than  she. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  April  that  Uncle  Kit  came  in 


I heard  the  kitten^  crying  up  in  the  rocks. 


BREAKING  CAMP, 


93 


with  a pack-train  for  the  furs,  the  snowfall  having  been 
so  heavy  that  he  could  not  get  in  earlier.  Our  catch  had 
been  light,  as  we  had  more  snow  that  winter  than  has 
ever  been  known  before  or  since  in  the  history  of  that 
country.  Uncle  Kit 
was,  however,  very 
well  satisfied  with  our 
work,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Mountain  Phil, 
whom  he  had  furnished 
for  the  winter,  and 
who  had  not  caught  a 
beaver.  We  soon  had 
our  traps  and  furs  to- 
gether, loaded  up  and 
were  on  our  way  to 
New  Mexico. 

The  third  day  about 
noon  we  reached  the 
Cache-1  a-P  o u d r e, 
where  we  again  ran  on 
to  the  American  Can- 
nibal.  We  stopped 
here  to  let  our  horses 
feed  and  to  partake  of 
some  ref reshments 
ourselves.  Uncle  Kit,  The  American  Cannibal, 

after  giving  Mountain 
Phil  a lecture  for  his  past  conduct,  said: 

“Phi],  if  ever  you  and  I are  out  together  in  the  moun- 
tains and  run  short  of  provisions,  I will  shoot  you  down 
as  I would  a wolf,  before  you  get  hungry.” 


94 


on  Sand  Creek. 


Phil  asked  him  why  he  would  do  so,  and  Carson  re- 
plied: “Because  I wouldn’t  take  the  chances  of  being 

killed  and  eaten  up  by  a cannibal  like  you.” 

It  might  be  well  to  give  a brief  description  of  this 
cannibal.  He  was  a large,  raw-boned  man,  who  would 
weigh  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  though  he 
was  not  very  fleshy.  He  always  wore  his  hair  long 
and  never  combed  it,  also  wore  his  beard  long  and  never 
sheared  or  combed  that.  His  hair  grew  down  on  his 
forehead  almost  to  his  eyes.  Iniact  he  looked  more  like 
an  animal  than  a human  being. 

Three  days’  travel  brought  us  to  South  Platte,  where 
we  crossed  the  river  and  made  camp  on  a little  stream 
called  Sand  Creek.  It  was  our  custom  to  stake  our  sad- 
dle horses  out  at  night  as  near  camp  as  good  grass  could 
be  found.  The  following  morning  Johnnie  West  and 
myself  had  been  out  after  the  pack  animals,  and  on  our 
return  when  within  about  a quarter  of  a mile  from  camp, 
we  heard  a rumbling  noise  that  sounded  like  a band  of 
buffalo  in  a stampede.  We  looked  off  to  our  right  and 
saw  a large  herd  of  horses,  driven  by  seven  Ute  Indians, 
who  were  pushing  them  at  the  greatest  possible  speed. 
We  urged  our  horses  in  the  direction  of  camp  as  fast  as 
possible.  As  soon  as  we  were  in  sight  of  camp,  we  gave 
the  alarm  and  every  man  sprang  to  his  gun,  mounted  his 
horse  and  was  ready  to  receive  them.  The  Indians  did 
not  see  us  until  they  had  run  the  herd  of  horses  almost 
into  our  camp.  Our  saddle  horses  being  fresh,  we  suc- 
ceeded in  killing  the  seven  Indians  before  they  got  far 
away,  and  captured  the  herd,  of  horses,  which  proved  to 
be  a herd  they  had  stolen  from  the  Arapahoe  Indians  the 


A NEW  PISTOL  AND  KNIFE. 


95 


night  before,  and  in  less  than  an  hour,  Gray  Eagle,  the 
Arapahoe  chief,  came  along  in  pursuit,  accompanied  by 
fifty  of  his  select  warriors.  When  Uucle  Kit  showed 
him  the  dead  Utes,  he  walked  up  to  one  of  them,  gave 
him  a kick  and  said:  “Lo-mis-mo-cay-o-te, ” which 

means,  “All  the  same  as  cayote.” 

Gray  Eagle  gave  us  each  a horse,  thanked  us  very 
kindly  and  returned  to 
his  village  with  his  ani- 
mals. 

We  proceeded  on  our 
journey  to  Santa  Fe, 
which  took  us  twelve 
days.  Here  we  met  our 
old  friend,  Joe  Favor, 
who  we  had  sold  our 
furs  to  the  year  before, 
and  who  bought  them 
again  this  season. 

Furs  being  still  higher 
this  year,  notwithstand- 
ing our  small  catch, 

Uncle  Kit  did  fairly 
well  out  of  his  winter’s 

“All  same  as  cayote.” 

trapping. 

After  settling  up  with  Uncle  Kit,  Mr.  Favor  called  me 
into  the  store  and  presented  me  with  a single-shot,  silver- 
mounted  pistol,  also  a knife  that  weighed  two  and  one- 
fourth  pounds,  that  had  been  manufactured  in  St.  Louis. 

We  stopped  at  Santa  Fe  and  rested  two  days, 
after  which  time  Uncle  Kit,  Johnnie  West,  myself  and 


96 


THOUGHT  MYSELF  A MAN. 


my  pet  panther  returned  home  to  Taos,  which  was  a 
distance  of  ninety  miles  from  Santa  Fe. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


TWO  BOYS  RIDE  TO  THE  ClTY  OF  MEXICO.  —ELEVEN 

HUNDRED  MILES  OF  TRIAL,  DANGER  AND  DUTY A 

GIFT  HORSE. THE  WlND  RlVER  MOUNTAINS. 


It  was  now  the  spring  of  1850.  I was  eighteen  years 
old  and  beginning  to  think  myself  a man.  Uncle  Kit 
asked  me  to  go  to  the  City  of  Mexico,  saying  that  he 
owed  a man  there  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  and 
wished  to  pay  him.  He  also  told  me  that  he  would  have 
Juan,  the  Mexican  boy,  accompany  me  on  the  journey, 
but  cautioned  me  not  to  let  any  one  know  that  1 had 
money.  “For, ’’said  he,  “them  Mexican  guerrillas  would 
kill  you  if  they  knew  you  had  money  about  you.” 

The  reader  can  fancy  two  boys  at  the  age  of  eighteen, 
starting  out  on  a trip  of  eleven  hundred  miles,  over  a 
wild  country,  with  no  settlement  except  hostile  Indians 
and  Mexicans,  who  are  worse  than  Indians  if  they  know 
a person  has  money  about  him.  At  that  time  there 
were  no  roads  across  the  country  in  that  direction;  noth- 
ing but  a trail — a part  of  the  way  not  even  that — and  ibe 


Entrance  to  the  Alameda.  Mexico. 


TWO  BOYS  TRAVEL 


97 


whole  country  full  of  Mexican  guerrillas— or,  as  we  would 
term  them,  Mexican  robbers — who  made  it  a business  to 
murder  people  whom  they  suspected  of  having  money, 
and  who  would  even  masacre  whole  trains  of  emigrants, 
take  what  money  they  might  have,  their  provisions  and 
clothing,  burn  their  wagons  and  drive  their  stock  away. 
The  fact  is  that  many  of  the  depredations  committed  in 
those  days,  for  which  the  Indians  were  blamed,  were 
done  by  those  fiendish  Mexicans. 

When  the  lime  arrived  for  starting  and  we  were 
mounted,  UncJe  Kit,  Johnnie  West  and  Mr.  Hughes 
came  out  to  bid  us  good-bye. 

Johnnie  West  said:  4 ‘Well,  I am  afraid  I shall  never 

see  you  again,  for  those  Mexican  guerrillas  are  worse  than 
Indians,  especially  when  they  think  a traveler  has  money 
about  him.” 

All  this  helped  to  put  me  on  my  guard,  and  I didn’t 
even  tell  Juan  that  I had  money  with  me. 

We  started  on  our  journey  with  two  saddled  horses 
and  one  pack-horse  each.  We  met  numerous  little  bands 
of  Navajoe  Indians,  but  they  being  on  good  terms  with 
the  whites,  gave  us  no  trouble,  whatever.  We  also  met 
numerous  little  squads  of  Mexican  guerrillas,  but  they  not 
suspecting  two  boys  as  young  as  we  were  with  having 
money,  did  not  disturb  us.  Uncle  Kit  had  sent  the 
shabbiest  looking  horses  along  that  he  had,  in  order  to 
deceive  them.  Every  band  of  Mexicans  that  we  met  on 
our  trip  would  ask  us  where  we  were  from,  where  we 
were  going  and  our  business.  I always  told  them  that  I 
was  from  Taos,  and  was  going  to  the  City  of  Mexico  to 
see  a friend,  and  they  would  pass  on. 


98 


ELEVEN  HUNDRED  MILES 


The  first  river  we  came  to,  Juan  asked  me  if  I could 
»wim.  J told  him  that  I did  not  know,  as  I had  never 
had  a trial.  We  stripped  down,  tied  our  clothing  about 
our  shoulders  and  mounted  our  horses  again. 

I wanted  Juan  to  take  the  lead  and  let  me  drive  the 
horses  after  him,  but  he  thought  we  had  best  ride  side  by 
side  and  let  the  pack-animals  follow,  so  in  case  of  acci- 
dent we  could  help  each  other.  We  made  it  across  safe, 
and  from  this  time  on  we  never  hesitated  at  a stream. 

We  were  thirty-one  days  making  the  trip  to  the  City 
of  Mexico. 

I found  Mr.  Reed  at  his  residence  and  paid  the  two 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars  to  him.  He  was  much  aston- 
ished at  Uncle  Kit  sending  two  boys  eleven  hundred 
miles  to  pay  so  small  a debt,  and  said  that  he  had  not  ex- 
pected to  get  the  money  until  such  time  as  Carson  might 
be  coming  that  way  on  other  business,  for  it  was  so  far 
that  he  would  not  have  gone  after  it  and  taken  the 
chances  of  crossing  the  country  between  the  City  of 
Mexico  and  Taos,  as  we  had  done,  for  the  two  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars. 

But  Uncle  Kit  owed  this  money  and  had  agreed  to 
pay  it  at  a certain  time,  and  he,  like  many  other  fron- 
tiersman, valued  his  word  more  than  he  did  his  gold. 

We  laid  over  two  days  at  the  City  of  Mexico  in  order 
to  let  our  horses  rest.  The  day  before  we  were  to  start, 
Mr.  Reed,  who  had  invited  us  to  his  residence  to  board 
while  in  the  City,  went  out  to  where  our  horses  were, 
and  seeing  that  one  of  the  horses  had  a sore  back,  told 
me  that  he  would  make  me  a present  of  a horse  that, 


Ploughing  with  Mules,  Mexico. 


Ox  Cart,  Mexico, 


) 


i 


to  City  of  Mexico. 


99 


if  I took  good  care  of,  would  be  able  to  carry  me  the 
entire  trip. 

I named  this  horse  Mexico,  and  as  will  be  seen  later, 
he  proved  to  be  a noble  saddle-horse,  which  I kept  and 
rode  for  seven  years. 

We  made  the  trip  home  somewhat  quicker  than  we 
did  on  our  way  out,  being  better  acquainted  with  the 
country,  and  so  could  make  better  time. 

We  were  just  two  months  making  the  round  trip,  ar- 
riving at  Taos  two  weeks  sooner  than  Uncle  Kit  had  ex- 
pected us.  Johnnie  West  and  Mr.  Hughes  were  glad  to 
see  us  return,  for  it  was  more  than  they  expected. 

By  this  time  my  panther  had  grown  to  be  quite 
large,  and  was  glad  to  see  me. 

On  my  return  to  Taos  I learned  that  Uncle  Kit  and 
Jim  Bridger  had  formed  a co-partnership,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  trapping  the  coming  winter  in  the  Wind  River 
mountains,  which  were  about  seven  hundred  miles  from 
Taos,  and  had  employed  Johnnie  West,  Charlie  Jones 
and  Jake  Harrington  to  trap  for  them,  and  in  a few  days 
after  my  return  from  the  City  of  Mexico  we  made  the 
start  with  thirty-two  pack-animals,  besides  our  saddle- 
horses. 

Nothing  happening  worthy  of  note  on  our  way  out, 
we  arrived  at  our  proposed  trapping  ground,  and  found 
plenty  of  beaver  and  plenty  of  fresh  Indian  sign  as  well, 
but  the  Indians  were  not  apt  to  give  us  any  trouble  at  this 
season  of  the  year,  more  than  to  run  our  horses  off,  as 
they  would  prefer  to  let  trappers  alone  until  spring  and 
then  kill  them  and  take  their  furs. 

We  established  our  two  camps  about  four  miles  apart, 


IOO 


BLACKFOOT  INDIANS. 


and  kept  our  horses  in  the  valley  between  the  two  camps; 
there  was  an  abundance  of  grass,  plenty  of  game  and  no 
end  to  the  beaver.  In  fact,  to  take  it  on  the  whole,  it 
seemed  that  this  was  going  to  be  the  lovliest  place  to 
spend  the  winter  that  we  had  ever  struck,  and  the  boys 
were  all  highly  elated  over  their  new  winter  quarters. 
We  had  only  been  in  our  trapping  field  about  two  weeks 
when  Uncle  Kit  went  out  one  morning  to  kill  a deer 
and  to  look  after  the  horses.  He  had  not  gone  far  when 
he  looked  across  the  the  little  valley  and  saw  an  Indian 
driving  off  our  horses.  Being  in  gunshot  of  the  Indian, 
he  fired  at  him  and  brought  him  to  the  ground.  When 


Uncle  Kit  returned  to  camp, 
he  said: 

“Boys,  I am  afraid  we 
have  made  a mistake  in 
coming  here  to  trap  this 
winter;  we  must  be  near  the 
Blackfoot  Indians,  for  I just 
killed  one  that  was  driving  our  horses  off,  and  I just  hap- 
pened to  see  him  in  time  to  catch  him  with  old  Blackleg.  ” 
At  that  time  the  Blackfoot  Indians  were  considered 
the  worst  tribe  in  the  entire  Northwest. 


He  fired  at  him  and  brought 
him  to  the  ground. 


Water  carrier  as  seen  in  Mexico. 


ATTACKED  BY  BlACKFOOTS. 


IOI 


I went  at  once  to  the  other  camp  to  notify  Jim 
Bridger  and  his  crowd  that  they  might  be  on  their  guard. 
Bridger  said  he  had  been  expecting  it,  as  he  had  seen 
fresh  Indian  sign  out  on  the  ridges  some  days  before,  but 
thought  it  was  getting  so  late  now  that  they  would  not 
give  us  any  more  trouble  this  winter,  but  that  we  would 
have  to  get  out  early  the  next  spring. 

We  stayed  here  and  trapped  all  winter,  with  splendid 
success.  Jim  Bridger  took  twelve  beaver  from  his  string 
of  traps  every  twenty-four  hours  for  seven  successive 
days,  being  the  greatest  catch  I ever  knew  from  one 
string  of  traps.  f 

About  the  last  of  March  we  commenced  making 
preparations  to  leave  the  mountains,  for  fear  the  Indians 
might  come  and  clean  us  out. 

The  day  before  we  were  to  start  there  came  a heavy 
fall  of  snow,  and  we  were  not  able  to  move  until  the  first 
of  April,  when  we  made  another  start  for  Santa  Fe, 
going  via  Sweetwater,  and  we  had  enough  fnrs  to  load 
our  entire  train. 

The  second  day  after  leaving  camp  we  were  attacked, 
about  noon,  by  twenty  Indians  of  the  Blackfoot  tribe, 
who  entertained  us  for  about  an  hour. 

We  huddled  our  horses  and  used  them  for  breast- 
works, and  killed  seven  Indians  without  one  of  our  men 
being  wounded,  but  we  lost  two  horses. 

It  might  be  well  to  describe  the  manner  in  which  trap- 
pers traveled  those  days  while  passing  through  a coun- 
try where  there  were  hostile  Indians. 

Each  man  would  take  the  number  of  horses  he  was  to 
lead  and  and  string  them  out  and  fasten  them  together 


102 


A HOT  LITTLE  FIGHT. 


by  tying  each  horse  to  the  tail  of  the  horse  ahead  of  him, 
and  the  head  horse  of  the  string  he  would  tie  to  the  tail 
of  his  saddle-horse.  This  had  to  be  done  to  prevent  a 
stampede  when  attacked,  and  the  horses,  too,  were  a 
great  protection  to  the  men,  for  when  they  were  attacked 
by  Indians  the  men  would  ride  to  the  center  and  use  the 
horses  for  breastworks  in  time  of  battle. 

After  the  fight  was  over  the  boys  all  felt  jubilant  over 
their  victory.  We  had  no  more  trouble  with  Indians  for 
four  days,  when  we  reached  Rock  Creek,  a beautiful  lit- 
tle mountain  stream  that  pays  tribute  to  the  North  Platte 
river.  Here  was  a nice  place  to  camp;  plenty  of  wood 
and  an  abundance  of  grass,  and  the  finest  water  in  the 
land.  Here  was  a lovely  valley,  and  just  off  to  the 
northwest  was  a little  hill  or  ridge,  only  a short  distance 
from  which  we  made  our  camp.  Some  of  the  men  went 
to  getting  wood  and  building  a fire,  while  others  were 
unpacking,  not  thinking  of  Indians,  and  just  as  the  packs 
were  off  we  were  aroused  by  the  war-whoop  of  a little 
squad  of  Indians  who  were  coming  over  the  ridge 
spoken  of.  We  had  a hot  little  fight,  but  it  only  lasted 
a few  minutes,  when  the  Indians  withdrew,  and  Uncle 
Kit  gave  orders  to  follow  them,  which  we  did,  and  had  a 
running  fight  for  about  five  miles.  We  captured  five 
horses  from  the  redskins,  and  in  the  affair  did  not  lose  a 
man,  nor  even  a horse. 

This  ended  our  trouble  with  the  Indians  for  this  trip. 

On  arriving  at  Santa  Fe,  Uncle  Kit  and  Jim  Bridger 
sold  their  furs  to  Joe  Favor  and  Mr.  Roubidoux  for 
a good  price. 

Here  we  met  an  Englishman,  who  lived  in  London, 

r 


TRADING  WITH  INDIANS. 


103 


England,  and  had  come  that  spring  from  St.  Louis,  in 
company  with  Mr.  Roubidoux  and  Joe  Favor. 

I had  my  pet  panther  with  me,  and  the  Englishman 
took  a fancy  to  her  and  asked  my  price  for  her.  I told 
him  that  she  was  not  for  sale.  He  offered  me  a hundred 
dollars  for  her.  I hated  to  part  with  her,  but  a hundred 
dollars  was  more  money  than  I had  ever  had  before  at 
one  time,  and  looked  like  a big  lot  to  me,  so  I accepted 
his  offer,  and  in  less  than  twenty-four  hours  I was  very 
sorry,  for  during  the  time  I stayed  in  Santa  Fe,  every 
time  that  I would  pass  in  sight  of  her  she  would  cry  as 
pitifully  as  any  child  ever  heard.  Five  hundred  dollars 
would  not  have  bought  her  from  Mr.  Mace,  as  he  had 
purchased  her  with  the  intention  of  taking  her  to  Eng- 
land. 

Mr.  Roubidoux  and  Joe  Favor  employed  Uncle  Kit 
to  go  out  and  trade  for  buffalo  robes  with  the  Comanche 
and  Kiowa  Indians.  I accompanied  him  on  this  trip, 
and  we  were  out  two  months,  during  which  time  we  did 
not  see  a white  man. 

This  was  the  first  shipment  of  buffalo  robes  that  had 
ever  been  made  from  this  region,  consequently  we  were 
able  to  get  them  almost  at  our  own  price. 

As  soon  as  Uncle  Kit  got  out  there  with  his  little 
stock  of  goods  that  had  been  furnished  him  to  trade  on, 
and  which  consisted  of  beads  and  rings  and  a very  few 
blankets,  and  the  Indians  had  learned  that  he  would 
trade  for  robes,  the  squaws  all  fell  to  dressing  them. 
Among  the  Indians  it  was  considered  disgraceful  for  men 
to  do  such  work. 

In  a very  short  time  there  were  plenty  of  dressed  buf- 


104 


PREPARING  FOR  SOUTH  PARK. 


falo  robes,  and  some  very  nice  ones,  and  I have  seen 
Uncle  Kit  trade  a string  of  beads  a foot  and  a half  long 
for  a first-class  robe,  and  for  a red  blanket  he  could  get 
almost  as  many  robes  as  he  had  a mind  to  ask. 

As  fast  as  the  robes  were  bought  they  were  baled, 
and  by  the  time  Uncle  Kit  pretty  well  bought  up  all  that 
were  for  sale,  the  wagon-train  came  and  hauled  them 
away. 

There  were  twenty  wagon  loads  of  robes,  and  the 
goods  Uncle  Kit  traded  for  them  would  not  have  cost  to 
exceed  seventy-five  dollars. 

Our  work  being  done,  we  started  for  Taos,  for  it  was 
now  almost  time  to  start  out  for  the  winter’s  trapping. 
On  our  arrival  at  Taos  we  found  Johnnie  West,  who  had 
been  loafing  around  for  two  months,  and  who  was  anxious 
to  get  at  work  again.  Uncle  Kit  hired  him  to  go  with  us 
to  South  Park  to  trap  the  coming  winter,  that  being  the 
place  he  had  decided  upon  for  the  season’s  work. 


Battle  betweeh  Utes  and  Comanches.  See  chapter  7 


A BEAUTIFUL  SIGHT. 


105 


CHAPTER  VIL 


Battling  three  days’  battle  between  the  Coman- 

CHES  AND  THE  UtES  FOR  THE  POSSESSION  OF  A 

'‘Hunter’s  Paradise.” — An  unseasonable  bath. 


All  being  ready,  Uncle  Kit,  Johnnie  West  and  my- 
self pulled  out  for  South  Park.  We  passed  over  a high 
range  of  mountains,  struck  the  Park  on  the  east  side, 
and  a more  beautiful  sight  I never  saw  than  the  region 
was  at  that  time.  Coming  in  from  the  direction  men- 
tioned, one  could  overlook  the  entire  park,  which  was 
almost  surrounded  by  snow-capped  mountains,  and  the 
valley,  several  miles  below,  which  was  about  eighty 
miles  long  and  from  ten  to  twenty  miles  wide,  was  as 
green  as  a wheatfield  in  June.  When  we  were  near  the 
valley  we  could  see  elk  in  bands  of  a hundred  or  more, 
with  email  herds  of  bison  scattered  here  and  there  in  the 
valley,  and  antelope  by  the  hundred. 

I had  often  heard  of  a hunter’s  paradise,  and  when  I 
got  sight  of  this  lovely  valley,  with  its  thousands  of  wild 
animals  of  almost  every  description  known  to  the  conti- 
nent, I made  up  my  mind  that  if  there  ever  was  such  a 
place  as  a hunter’s  paradise,  I had  surely  found  it.  The 
high  mountains  with  scattering  pine  trees  on  the  sides; 
the  snowy  white  peaks  above  the  timber  line,  and  the 
many  little  mountain  streams  and  rills  that  paid  tribute 
to  the  main  stream  that  coursed  this  beautiful  valley,  all 


io6 


at  South  Park. 


combined  to  form  a scene  of  magnificent  grandeur.  The 
quaking-asp,  balm  and  various  other  kinds  of  small  tim- 
ber that  grew  along  the  streams  all  helped  to  add  to  the 
beauty  of  the  scene. 

We  crossed  over  to  the  west  side  to  a cove  that  ran 
back  some  twelve  miles  from  the  main  valley;  here,  we 
decided,  was  the  best  place  to  establish  our  winter  quar- 
ters. Every  little  mountain  stream  in  the  valley  was 
alive  with  beaver,  and  Uncle  Kit  thought  it  so  late  that 
we  would  not  be  bothered  by  the  Indians  that  fall,  but, 
that  we  would  have  to  get  out  early  the  following  spring. 
Feeling  perfectly  safe,  we  built  our  cabin  this  winter  en- 
tirely on  top  of  the  ground,  consequently  we  were  not 
long  in  getting  our  winter  quarters  completed  and  were 
soon  ready  to  start  in  trapping.  We  had  excellent  suc- 
cess this  winter;  very  little  snow  to  contend  with,  mak- 
ing it  much  better  getting  around  than  usual  and  an 
easier  task  to  look  after  strings  of  traps. 

In  those  cases  each  man  had  his  string  of  traps,  and 
it  was  his  business  to  go  to  each  trap  every  day,  take  the 
beaver  out,  skin  them,  set  the  traps,  carry  the  skins 
home  and  stretch  them.  Sometimes  we  would  trap  as 
far  as  seven  miles  from  camp,  that  being  the  outside 
limit.  After  we  had  trapped  here  about  three  weeks 
there  came  a light  fall  of  snow  which  drove  most  of  the 
game  to  the  valley,  and  we  experienced  no  trouble  in  get- 
ting all  the  meat  we  wanted  close  to  camp,  in  fact  we 
could  often  kill  deer  and  antelope  from  our  cabin  door. 

The  second  morning  after  the  snowfall,  Uncle  Kit, 
Johnnie  West  and  myself  all  started  down  the  valley  to 
look  after  our  traps.  We  went  about  a mile  together, 


They  were  within  a few  feet  of  me.  Page  108 


CHASED  BY  BISON. 


107 


when  I left  the  other  two,  my  traps  being  the  farthest 
away,  some  three  miles  down  the  valley.  After  leaving 
the  other  two  I struck  out  down  the  valley  on  a turkey 
trot,  that  being  my  usual  gait  when  alone.  I had  not 
gone  far  when  I heard  two  gun  shots.  Thinking  that 
Uncle  Kit  and  Johnnie  had  been  attacked  by  the  Indians, 
I turned  in  the  direction  that  I heard  the  shooting,  and 
ran  back  much  faster  than  I had  come,  but  had  not 
gone  far  when  I saw  ahead  of  me,  up  the  narrow  valley, 
a band  of  about  twenty  bison  coming  direct  for  me.  I 
thought  by  shooting  the  leader  it  might  check  their 
speed  and  perhaps  cause  them  to  change  their  course. 
So  I brought  my  gun  to  my  face  and  dropped  the  leader, 
but  it  neither  caused  the  others  to  halt  or  change  their 
course,  and  they  were  making  a bee  line  for  me,  and 
there  was  not  a tree  in  reach  large  enough  for  me  tc 
climb  nor  a place  of  any  kind  that  I could  hide. 

Now  I was  not  long  in  making  up  my  mind  that  I 
had  a first-class  foot-race  on  my  hands — as  an  Irishman 
might  say — and  after  running  some  distance  I looked 
back  and  saw  the  bison  were  on  me  at  every  jump.  Had 
I only  known  the  nature  of  bison,  which  I learned  after- 
ward were  not  so  vicious  as  buffalo,  I could  have  turned 
to  the  right  or  left  and  they  would  have  passed  on;  but 
thinking  that  they  were  after  me,  I got  out  like  a quar- 
ter-horse, putting  in  my  best  licks  to  try  to  reach  a wash- 
out that  I knew  of  ahead  of  me.  Thinking  that  if  I only 
could  reach  that  ditch  I might  have  some  possible  show 
for  my  life,  I lost  no  time  in  getting  there,  but  got  right 
down  to  business  and  did  the  prettiest  running  I have 
ever  done  in  my  life.  Every  time  I looked  back  I saw 


io8 


AN  UNSEASONABLE  BATH. 


that  the  rushing  herd  was  closer  upon  me,  until  they 
were  within  a few  feet,  and  by  the  time  I reached  the 
ditch  I fancied  that  I could  feel  the  breath  from  the 
nostrils  of  a half  dozen  bison  on  the  rear  base  of  my 
buckskin  trousers.  Then  into  the  ditch  I went,  head- 
long and  into  about  four  feet  of  water.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  those  buffalo  were  half  an  hour  crossing  that  ditch, 

but  I stood 
perfectly 
quiet  in  t h e 
water  up  to 
my  waist  until 
they  -had  all 
passed  over. 

The  ditch 
being  'deep 
and  the  banks 
p e r p e ndicu- 
lar,  I had  to 
wade  the 
water  for 
some  distance 
up  the  ditch 
before  I could 
find  a place 
where  I could 
climb  out.  I 
“Rather  cold  weather  to  go  bathing.”  had  j U S t 

scrambled  up 

the  oanK  and  shaKen  myselt,  when  up  came  Uncle  Kit 
and  Johnnie,  who  had  heard  the  report  of  my  gun  and 


A PLEASANT  WINTER. 


109 


had  come  to  see  whether  or  not  I had  killed  anything. 

“Rather  cold  to  go  bathing,”  said  Uncle  Kit. 
“When  I go  bathin’  I alius  pull  off  my  buckskin  suit.” 
But  I told  them  I considered  myself  lucky  to  be  able 
to  find  a suitable  place  to  go  swimming  just  at  that  time, 
and  congratulated  myself  on  being  all  there. 

Aside  from  my  race  with  the  bison,  I put  in  a very 
pleasant  winter,  and  Uncle  Kit  said  he  had  never  spent 
as  pleasant  a time  in  the  mountains  as  he  did  that  winter 
in  South  Park.  “In  fact,”  said  he,  “it  was  more  like  a 
pleasure  trip  than  anything  else.” 

Our  camp  at  this  time  was  near  where  the  town  of 
Tarryall  has  since  been  built,  and  we  ranged  our  horses 
in  the  extreme  south  end  of  the  park,  where  they  had  the 
best  kind  of  grazing  the  entire  winter. 

It  was  in  the  latter  part  of  March — this  now  being 
the  spring  of  1852 — when  Uncle  Kit  made  a trip  to  the 
south  end  of  the  park  to  get  our  horses,  thinking  we  had 
stayed  there  about  as  long  as  it  was  safe. 

Dnring  his  absence  Johnnie  West  and  I were  busily 
engaged  in  making  preparations  to  start  for  Bent’s  Fort, 
as  soon  as  Carson  should  get  back  with  the  horses.  On 
his  return  he  informed  us  that  he  would  not  leave  the 
park  until  about  the  first  of  May,  which  was  a surprise 
and  disappointment  to  us  both,  as  we  had  made  all  cal- 
culations on  getting  started  the  following-day.  We  asked 
what  was  up  that  we  were  to  be  detained  so  long. 

“On  my  trip  for  the  horses,”  said  Carson,  “I  saw 
some  Injuns  of  the  Comanche  tribe,  and  they  told  me 
that  them  and  the  Utes  war  goin’  to  have  a battle  as 
soon  as  the  Utes  can  cross  the  mountains,  and  the  place 


f IO 


THREE  DAYS'  BATTLE 


for  the  battle  decided  on  is  in  the  south  end  of  the  park.” 
He  also  said  that  with  all  the  Indian  fighting  he  had  been 
mixed  up  in  he  had  never  before  had  an  opportunity  to 
see  two  tribes  come  together,  and  that  he  would  not  miss 
seeing  it  for  any  consideration. 

In  those  days  each  tribe  of  Indians  had  their  own 
scope  of  hunting  and  trapping  ground,  and  if  one  tribe 
was  caught  intruding  upon  the  the  rights  of  another  tribe 
it  was  apt  to  cause  trouble. 

As  I have  said  before,  South  Park  was  a hunter’s 
paradise  in  the  winter,  and  added  to  this,  in  the  summer 
almost  the  entire  valley  was  covered  with  wild  strawber- 
ries. Along  the  many  little  mountain  streams  were 
abundance  of  wild  gooseberries,  blackberries  and  wild 
currants,  while  on  the  hillsides  were  acres  of  wild  rasp- 
berries. In  fact  almost  every  variety  of  berries  that  ther 
grew  west  of  the  Missouri  river  could  be  found  in  South 
Park;  while  the  streams  were  full  of  the  finest  quality  of 
mountain  trout  as  well  as  many  other  kinds  of  fish. 

The  two  tribes  of  Indians  mentioned  had  been  in 
dispute  for  a number  of  years  as  to  their  boundary  line, 
each  claiming  South  Park,  and  this  battle  had  been  ar- 
ranged the  fall  before  by  the  chiefs,  also  the  place  de- 
cided upon  for  the  battle,  which  was  to  be  on  a little 
stream  in  the  extreme  south  end  of  the  park,  that  has 
since  gone  by  the  name  of  Battle  Creek. 

Battle  Creek  heads  in  the  Pike’s  Peak  range  of  moun- 
tains, and  runs  almost  due  west.  The  particular  spot 
selected  for  this  battle  was  on  this  creek,  about  two 
miles  from  where  it  empties  into  the  stream  that  runs 
through  the  park. 


BETWEEN  COMANCHES 


III 


No  better  place  could  have  been  selected  for  the  fight. 
There  were  scattering  pines  here  and  there,  with  not  a 
bush  of  any  kind  to  interfere  with  their  wild  charges,  and 
a gentle  slope  from  each  side  to  the  stream  which  we 
might  call  the  dead  line. 

The  Comanches  were  to  occupy  the  south  side, 
while  the  Utes  were  on  the  north. 

As  this  battle  was  to  settle  for  all  time  the  long-dis- 
puted right  of  these  two  powerful  tribes,  it  was  likely  to 
be  no  tame  affair. 

This  was  what  might  be  called  a civil  war  between 
two  tribes  of  Indians,  They  had  quarreled  so  long  over 
this  portion  of  the  country  that  the  two  chiefs  had  met 
and  decided  to  have  it  settled  for,  and  the  conditions  of 
the  battle  were  as  follows:  In  the  event  of  the  Coman- 

ches being  victorious  they  were  to  have  South  Park;  the 
summit  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  be  the  boundary  line. 
And  in  the  event  of  ,the  Utes  being  victorious,  the  boun- 
dary line  was  to  be  at  the  foot  of  the  Rocky  Mountains 
on  the  eastern  slope,  the  country  in  dispute  comprising 
all  of  the  territory  between  the  Arkansas  river  and  South 
Platte,  including  South  Park. 

About  two  weeks  before  the  time  set  for  the  battle, 
the  Comanche  warriors  began  to  arrive.  Some  brought 
their  families  while  others  did  not. 

Uncle  Kit,  being  well  acquainted  with  the  Comanche 
chief,  as  well  as  the  most  of  his  warriors,  loaded  up  all 
his  furs  and  we  moved  over  near  the  Comanches’  quar- 
ters a few  days  before  the  battle  was  to  take  place. 

As  the  Comanches  came  in  they  would  pitch  their 
wick-i-ups  back  on  the  hill  a.  quarter  of  a mile 


1 12 


AND  UTES  FOR 


south  of  the  little  stream,  which  was  to  be  their  line  of 
battle.  They  were  all  on  hand  before  any  of  the  Utes 
came  across  the  mountains. 

About  two  days  from  the  time  the  last  of  the  Coman- 
ches  came  to  the  ground,  there  was  a little  squad  of 
Utes  came  in  and  pitched  their  camp  about  the  same 
distance  from  the  little  stream  as  the  Comanches,  only 
on  the  opposite  side. 

This  little  squad  of  Indians  came  on  ahead  to  ascer- 
tain whether  they  would  be  able  to  cross  the  mountains, 
and  if  they  did  not  return  in  so  many  days  the  others 
would  take  it  for  granted  that  all  was  clear  and  would 
follow,  which  they  did,  and  a few  days  later  the  entire 
Ute  nation  was  there. 

The  battle  did  not  begin  for  two  or  three  days  after 
all  the  Utes  were  on  the  ground,  thereby  giving  both 
sides  ample  time  to  kill  plenty  of  game  to  last  them 
through  the  war. 

During  the  time  they  were  preparing  for  battle, 
neither  tribe  seemed  to  make  any  attempt  to  molest  their 
enemy  in  any  way  whatever,  but  apparently  looked  upon 
it  as  a matter  of  business  and  proposed  to  fight  it  out  on 
the  square. 

During  the  time  we  were  awaiting  the  battle,  Kiwat- 
chee,  chief  of  the  Comanches,  who  was  a very  intelligent 
Indian  in  his  way,  and  could  speak  French  fairly  well, 
and  who  was  also  an  intimate  friend  of  Kit  Carson,  came 
to  Uncle  Kit  and  said: 

“I  know  you  are  a great  chief  and  I want  to  hire  you 
and  your  men  to  help  me  whip  the  Utes. 


Horse  Back,  Comanche  Chief. 


<w 


f 


THE  POSSESSION  OF 


**3 

“If  you  help  me  fight  the  Utes  I will  give  you  five 
ponies  each.” 

Kit  Carson  declined  by  telling  Kiwatchee  that  he  did 
not  come  to  fight,  but  as  he  had  never  witnessed  a war 
between  two  tribes  of  Indians,  he  had  come  merely  to 
look  on,  and  as  the  war  was  for  the  purpose  of  settling  a 
dispute  between  the  two  tribes,  he  did  not  think  it  would 
be  right  for  him  to  interfere.  Kiwatchee  insisted  on  our 
entering  into  the  battle  and  asked  how  many  horses  we 
would  take  to  help  him  fight  the  Utes.  But  Uncle  Kit 
told  him  he  would  take  no  hand  in  the  affair. 

We  were  camped  on  the  hill  near  the  Comanches, 
where  we  could  overlook  the  entire  battle-ground,  as  well 
as  the  Ute  camp.  We  dared  not  go  near  the  Utes,  for 
they  were  not  at  all  friendly  toward  the  pale-faces,  and 
in  case  the  Utes  were  victorious  we  would  have  to  flee 
with  the  Comanches. 

The  day  before  the  battle  was  to  take  place,  Kiwat- 
chee came  and  said  to  us: 

‘‘To-morrow  we  will  fight.” 

We  asked  him  how  long  he  thought  the  battle  would 
last.  Kiwatchee  said  he  thought  he  could  whip  the  Utes 
in  one  day. 

The  following  morning  about  sunrise,  just  as  we  were 
eating  breakfast,  the  two  chiefs  commenced  beating  their 
war-drums,  which  was  a signal  to  call  their  men  to- 
gether. The  war-drum,  or  what  the  Comanches  call  a 
“tum-tum,”  was  made  of  a piece  of  hollow  log  about 
eight  inches  long,  with  a piece  of  untanned  deerskin 
stretched  over  one  end.  This  the  war  chief  would  take 
under  one  arm  and  beat  on  it  with  a stick.  When 


A “Hunter’s  Paradise.*  1 


ii4 


the  tum-tums  sounded  the  first  morning  there  was  great 
commotion  among  the  Indians.  At  the  first  tap  the 
war-whoop  could  be  heard,  and  in  a few  moments  both 
tribes  of  Indians  were  down  at 
the  little  stream,  each  formed  in 
line  on  his  own  side. 

On  arriving  at  the  stream  the 
tum-tums  ceased  and  were  not 
heard  again  till  the  Indians  were 
formed  in  line  of  battle  and  each 
war-chief  passed  down  in  front 
of  his  men,  after  which  they 
again  commenced  beating  on  the 
tum-tums,  and  at  that  the  ar- 
rows began  flying. 

Now  the  fun  had  commenced 
in  earnest,  and  of  all  the  war- 
whoops  I ever  heard  they  were 
there,  and  the  more  noise  the 
Indians  made  the  harder  they 
would  fight. 

After  they  had  fought  for 
about  two  hours  they  seemed  to 

get  more  cautious  than  at  the  start,  and  would  look  for 
some  advantage  to  take  of  the  enemy. 

They  fought  hard  all  day;  sometimes  the  Coman- 
ches  would  cross  over  to  the  same  side  with  the  Utes, 
and  I saw  many  hand-to-hand  fights  with  tomahawks  and 
knives.  At  other  times  the  Utes  would  cross  over  on 
the  Comanche  side  of  the  stream,  but  would  soon  re« 
treat  again,  and  each  side  would  resume  their  old  posi- 


m^r>' 

The  tum-tum. 


DESPERATE  FIGHTING. 


tion  for  a time.  About  sunset  both  tribes  withdrew,  ap- 
parently by  mutual  agreement,  each  side  returning  to 
camp  for  supper. 

I did  not  learn  how  many  Comanches  were  killed  that 
day,  but  there  were  some  twenty  odd  wounded,  and  some 
of  them  fatally.  The  night  was  made  hideous  by  the 
shrieks  and  cries  of  the  squaws  and  children  of  the  war- 
riors who  had  been  killed  or  wounded  during  the  day. 

Neither  tribe  put  out  picket  guards  during  the  night. 

The  next  morning  about  sunrise  the  war-chiefs  were 
out  beating  on  the  tum-tums.  The  warriors  did  not 
hasten  around  so  briskly  as  the  morning  before,  however, 
they  were  soon  at  the  spot  and  ready  for  battle. 

After  going  through  the  same  manoeuvres  as  the 
morning  before,  the  war-woops  rang  out  loud  and  shrill, 
and  again  the  arrows  began  to  fly.  The  contestants 
fought  hard  all  day  again,  without  ceasing.  About  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon  the  Comanches  made  a desperate 
charge  on  the  Utes,  crossing  the  creek  and  fighting  them 
at  close  quarters.  Among  the  Comanches  was  one  In- 
dian in  particular  that  I was  acquainted  with,  that  I saw 
engaged  in  a number  of  hand-to-hand  fights,  and  always 
came  out  victorious,  but  he  got  badly  used  up  during  the 
day.  This  Indian  went  by  the  name  of  White  Bird,  and 
he  was  beyond  doubt  the  worst  disfigured  piece  of  hu- 
manity I ever  saw,  but  he  fought  on,  and  he  seemed  to 
say  by  his  actions: 

“I  am  slightly  disfigured,  but  still  in  the  ring.” 

About  sundown  the  two  armies  again  withdrew  for 
refreshments  and  repairs. 

That  evening  after  eating  my  supper  I went  over  to 


n6 


FIGHTING  CAUTIOUSLY. 


White  Bird’s  wick-i-up  and  found  him  sitting  there, 
blood)/  from  head  to  foot,  with  a large  cut  on  one  cheek, 
another  on  one  side  of  the  head,  and  numerous  other 
wounds,  making  him  the  most  horrible  specimen  of  hu- 
manity that  I had  ever  seen  living.  He  had  not  even 
washed  the  blood  from  his  face  or  hands,  but  was  sitting 
there  telling  his  squaw  and  children  how  many  Utes  he 
had  killed  during  the  day,  apparently  as  cool  and  uncon- 
cerned as  though  nothing  had  happened  him.  But  he 
was  not  able  for  duty  the  next  day,  and  died  about  ten 
o’clock. 

We  never  learned  where  the  Indians  buried  their 
dead,  for  they  took  them  away  during  the  night  and  dis- 
posed of  them  in  some  manner. 

There  were  more  Indians  killed  and  wounded  the 
second  day  than  the  first,  and  that  night  the  Comanches 
had  a big  war-dance  over  the  scalps  they  had  taken. 

The  morning  of  the  third  day  each  tribe  marched 
down  at  about  the  usual  hour  and  resumed  their  positions 
in  the  line  of  battle,  and  that  morning  they  fought  more 
cautiously  than  before,  until  about  ten  o’clock,  when  the 
Utes  made  their  first  big  charge  on  the  Comanches,  and 
they  had  a hard  fight,  which  resulted  in  the  death  of 
many  Indians,  and  the  Utes  retreated  with  considerably 
the  worst  of  it. 

In  this  charge  we  counted  over  forty  Utes  that  were 
killed  and  scalped. 

After  the  Comanches  had  driven  the  Utes  back, 
Johnnie  West  and  I went  down  within  about  fifty  yards 
and  sat  there  until  the  war  was  ended.  About  the  mid- 
dle of  the  afternoon  of  the  third  day,  the  old  war-chief 


Horse  Backs’  Son,  Comanche 


Comanche  victory. 


i 17 


of  the  Comanches  rushed  up  and  commenced  to  shout, 
“Co-chah!  Co-chah!”  which  meant  to  go  ahead,  or,  in 
other  words,  to  charge.  Johnnie  West,  who  understood 
the  language,  turned  to  me  and  said: 

‘‘The  Comanches  are  going  to  make  another  charge.” 
Sure  enough,  they  did;  crossing  the  creek  and  made 
a desperate  rush  for  the  Utes,  but  the  Utes  could  not 
stand  the  pressure  and  retreated,  the  Comanches  fol- 
lowing them  to  the  top  of  the  hill  where  the  Utes  were 
camped,  it  being  understood  between  the  two  chiefs  that, 
when  either  army  or  tribe  was  driven  back  to  the  top  of 
the  hill,  they  had  lost  the  battle. 

The  Comanches  now  returned,  singing  and  shouting 
at  the  top  of  their  voices,  and  in  a short  time  a little 
squad  of  Comanches  came  in  with  about  one  hundred 
head  of  Ute  horses.  We  never  learned  whether  they  had 
captured  the  horses  or  whether  they  had  won  them  in 
the  battle. 

That  night  the  Comanches  had  another  big  war-dance, 
and  while  the  unfortunate  squaws  and  children  were 
weeping  over  the  loss  of  their  fathers  and  husbands,  the 
victorious  warriors  were  dancing,  singing  and  shouting, 
and  while  dancing,  each  warrior  would  try  to  show  as 
near  as  he  could  the  manner  in  which  he  killed  and 
scalped  his  enemy,  and  of  all  the  silly  manoeuvers  a white 
man  ever  witnessed,  it  was  there  at  that  war-dance. 

The  next  morning  there  was  not  a Ute  to  be  seen,  all 
having  left  during  the  night. 

The  day  following,  the  Comanches  broke  camp  and 
started  back  for  their  main  village  on  the  Arkansas  river. 
We  broke  camp  and  started  out  ahead  of  them,  and  in 


1 1 8 


EMPLOYED  BY  COL.  BENT 


four  days  reached  Bent’s  Fort,  where  Uncle  Kit  sold  his 
furs  to  Colonel  Bent  and  Mr.  Roubidoux. 

These  two  kept  a boarding-house  at  the  Fort,  and 
this  being  the  general  loafing  place  during  the  summer 
season  for  most  of  the  trappers  in  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try, they  also  kept  whiskey,  and  after  the  trappers  had 
sold  their  furs,  many  of  them  would  stop  around  the 
Fort  and  pay  board  for  about  three  or  four  months  dur- 
ing each  summer,  and  by  the  time  they  were  ready  to 
start  trapping  again,  Col.  Bent  and  Mr.  Roubidoux  would 
have  all  of  their  money  back  for  grub  and  whiskey,  and, 
in  fact,  many  of  them  would  be  in  debt  to  them. 

There  being  so  much  stock  around  the  Fort  the  game 
was  driven  back  so  far  that  it  became  necessary  to  go 
considerable  distance  to  get  any.  Col.  Bent  and  Mr. 
Roubidoux  proposed  to  hire  Johnnie  West  and  I to  hunt 
for  them  for  two  months,  saying  that  they  had  not  had 
fresh  meat  half  of  the  time  the  past  spring.  We  agreed 
to  work  for  them  for  two  months,  they  being  willing  to 
pay  us  fifty  dollars  each  per  month,  with  the  understand- 
ing that  in  case  we  kept  them  in  meat  all  summer  they 
would  pay  us  extra  wages.  They  now  having  some  thirty 
odd  boarders,  it  took  a great  deal  of  meat,  and  having 
to  go  some  distance  for  game  we  had  to  pack  it  on  pack- 
horses.  We  hunted  for  them  two  months,  and  at  the 
end  of  that  time  we  had  kept  them  in  meat  and  had 
enough  ahead  to  last  them  one  month  longer. 

It  now  being  time  to  start  out  to  look  for  trapping 
ground  for  the  coming  winter,  we  went  to  Col.  Bent  for 
a settlement,  and  after  he  had  counted  out  our  hundred 
dollars  each  he  asked  us  how  much  extra  wages  we 


TO  FURNISH  MEAT. 


119 

thought  we  should  have.  I told  him  I was  perfectly 
willing  to  leave  it  to  Mr.  Roubidoux,  and  Johnnie  being 
willing  to  do  that  also,  Mr.  Roubidoux  told  the  Colonel 
to  pay  us  twenty  dollars  each,  extra,  all  of  which  was 
agreeable  to  us,  and  they  engaged  us  to  hunt  for  them 
the  next  summer  at  seventy-live  dollars  per  month. 

We  returned  now  to  Taos  to  prepare  for  the  winter’s 
tapping. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Kit  Carson  kills  a Hudson  Bay  Company’s  trapper, 

WHO  WAS  SPOILING  FOR  A FIGHT. SOCIAL  GOOD 

TIME  WITH  A TRAIN  OF  EMIGRANTS. 


Arriving  at  Taos  I learned  that  Uncle  Kit  had  his 
trapping  company  already  organized  for  the  coming  win- 
ter, consisting  of  himself,  Jim  Bridger,  Jim  Beckwith, 
Jake  Harrington,  Johnnie  West  and  myself,  six  in  all. 

Early  in  the  fall  of  1852  we  pulled  out  for  the  head 
of  Green  river,  which  was  a long  and  tedious  journey, 
being  more  than  eight  hundred  miles  from  Taos  and  over 
a rough  country.  We  took  the  trail  along  the  foot  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  running  north  until  after  crossing 
North  Platte.  Here  we  struck  across  the  Bad  Lands, 


120 


at  Hell’s  Hole. 


and  I thought  that  if  there  ever  was  a place  rightly 
named,  it  surely  was  this  section  of  country.  We  were 
three  days  crossing  this  God-forsaken  country;  and  we 
would  often  travel  a half  day  without  seeing  a living 
thing  of  any  description.  From  there  we  struck  across 
the  main  divide  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  were  three 
days  crossing  over  to  the  headwaters  of  Green  river, 
and  were  somewhat  disappointed  when  we  learned  that 
Green  river  had  been  trapped  over  by  the  Hudson  Bay 
Company  the  year  before.  However,  we  were  there,  and 
it  was  too  late  to  look  up  another  trapping-ground,  so 
we  occupied  some  of  the  old  cabins  that  had  been  erected 
by  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  and  went  to  trapping. 

Notwithstanding  the  country  had  all  been  trapped 
over,  we  had  fair  success,  or,  at  least,  much  better  than 
we  expected.  We  stayed  there  and  trapped  until  some 
time  in  February,  when  we  pulled  up  and  moved  down 
Green  river  nearly  twenty  miles  and  there  we  trapped  for 
two  weeks,  but  not  with  as  good  success  as  we  had  had 
at  the  old  camp. 

We  again  moved  camp  down  to  what  was  known  as 
Hell’s  Hole.  There  we  found  about  forty  French  Can- 
adians trapping  for  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  who,  by 
the  way,  had  plenty  of  bad  whiskey.  They  were  not 
very  friendly  toward  the  new  arrivals. 

Among  the  party  was  a big  fellow  by  the  name  of 
Shewman,  that  seemed  to  think  himself  a very  bad  man; 
he  did  not  appear  to  have  any  love  or  respect  for  any 
American  trapper,  which  was  the  case  with  the  general 
run  of  those  French  Canadians  who  were  in  the  employ 
of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company. 


Kit  Carson  kills  a 


1 2 1 


This  man  Shewman  seemed  to  have  a great  antipathy 
toward  Kit  Carson. 

If  the  reader  will  pardon  me,  I would  like  to  say  just 
here,  that  while  Kit  Carson  was  the  last  man  to  offer  an 
insult,  yet,  at  the  same  time,  if  challenged,  he  would 
fight  any  man  living  rather  than  be  called  a coward,  and 
in  those  days  the  character  of  men  concerning  whom 
this  work  is  written  quarreled  but  very  little.  If  a man 
insulted  another,  ten  chances  to  one  he  would  be  chal- 
lenged to  fight  a duel;  and  in  such  a case  he  would  either 
have  to  fight  or  be  branded  as  a coward,  and  the  sooner 
he  left  the  crowd  the  better  it  would  be  for  him,  for  he 
could  see  no  peace  while  remaining  with  them. 

The  third  day  we  arrived  at  the  place  spoken  of,  this 
man  Shewman  got  pretty  well  ginned  up  and  started  out 
to  look  for  Uncle  Kit,  saying  that  he  had  heard  a great 
deal  of  Kit  Carson  and  of  his  fighting  proclivities,  and 
that  he  would  lick  him  on  sight.  One  of  Shewman’s 
friends,  knowing  Kit  Carson  by  reputation,  tried  to  in- 
duce him  to  let  Kit  alone  and  have  nothing  to  do  with 
him,  but  the  more  they  said  to  him  the  madder  he  got, 
until  finally  he  was  raging  with  anger. 

It  happened  that  while  he  was  in  his  rage,  Uncle  Kit, 
Jake  Harrington  and  I,  knowing  nothing  of  Shewman’s 
mad  fit,  started  out  to  look  after  our  horses  and  had  to 
pass  near  their  camp.  Just  as  we  were  passing  by  their 
cabin,  Shewman  said: 

‘‘There  goes  the  d — d white-faced  American  now. 
Look  at  him,  hQ  looks  just  like  a coward,  and  he  is  a 
d — d cowardly  cur,  just  like  all  the  rest  of  the  Ameri- 


cans. 


122 


TRAPPER,  WHO  WAS 


Uncle  Kit  stopped  and  addressed  him  in  the  follow- 
ing manner: 

“I  am  an  American  and  I feel  proud  of  the  name, 
but  I would  have  you  understand  that  I am  no  coward. 
I will  fight  you  any  way  that  you  wish.” 

Shewman  said:  4 ‘If  you  want  me  to  kill  you,  get 

your  horse  and  I will  get  mine,  and  we  will  get  one  hun- 
dred yards  apart  and  start  at  the  word.  After  we  start, 
each  fire  when  we  please.” 

This  Uncle  Kit  agreed  to,  saying:  “There  is  my 

horse,  I will  be  ready  in  three  minutes.  Get  ready  as 
soon  as  you  please;  as  you  seem  to  want  to  fight,  I will 
accommodate  you.” 

I had  been  with  Uncle  Kit  now  since  1847,  and  this 
was  the  first  time  I had  ever  seen  him  in  any  serious 
trouble,  and  I was  surprised  at  the  cool  and  unexcited 
manner  in  which  he  talked  to  Shewman.  He  was  ap- 
parently as  cool  as  though  he  was  just  in  the  act  of  start- 
ing out  buffalo  hunting,  There  was  a smile  on  his  coun- 
tenance when  he  was  talking  to  Shewman  about  the  fight 
that  was  to  take  place,  in  which  one  of  them  was  to  lose 
his  life. 

I had  been  with  Kit  Carson  long  enough  to  know 
better  than  to  say  anything  to  him,  but  Jake  Harrington 
followed  him  out  to  where  his  horse  was,  and  started  in 
to  try  to  talk  him  out  of  the  notion  by  telling  him  that 
Shewman  was  drinking.  He  turned  to  Harrington  and 
said:  “Jake,  I thought  you  were  an  American,  and 

would  fight  for  the  name.”  Harrington,  seeing  that 
Uncle  Kit  was  determined  in  the  matter,  said  no  more. 
Carson  went  out  to  where  his  saddle-horse  was  feed- 


Uncle  Kit  fired  anu  ~u  iell.  Page  123 


SPOILING  FOR  A FIGHT. 


123 


ing,  caught  him  and  took  a half-hitch  around  his  nose 
with  the  riatta,  jumped  on  him  without  any  saddle,  and 
by  this  time  Shewman  was  on  his  horse  also,  with  his 
rifle  in  hand. 

Up  to  this  time  I had  not  said  a word  to  Uncle  Kit, 
but  as  I came  up  I asked  him  if  he  was  not  going  to  get 
his  gun. 

“No,”  said  he,  “this  is  all  the  gun  I want;”  and  he 
took  out  his  pistol  and  rode  away  a few  rods,  so  thajt  Jake 
Harrington  and  I would  not  be  in  range  of  the  bullets 
from  Shewman’s  gun,  and  stopped  to  wait  for  Shewman 
to  give  the  word.  A number  of  Shewman’s  friends  tried 
to  persuade  him  not  to  start,  but  their  talk  only  seemed 
to  add  to  his  rage.  After  they  had  exhausted  all  their 
persuasive  powers,  and  seeing  that  he  was  so  determined 
in  the  matter,  they  let  him  go. 

He  cried  out  in  French  that  he  was  ready,  and  at 
that  moment  they  both  started  their  horses  at  full  speed 
toward  each  other.  When  within  thirty  yards,  Shew- 
man fired,  and  at  the  crack  of  his  gun,  Jake  Harrington 
clapped  his  hands  and  shouted:  “Good!  good!  Uncle 

Kit  is  safe.” 

We  could  not  see  any  sign  of  his  being  hit,  and  when 
a few  yards  nearer  each  other,  Uncle  Kit  fired,  and  Shew- 
man fell  to  the  ground  mortally  wounded,  the  bullet  pas- 
sing through  his  body  just  above  the  heart. 

Shewman  lived  until  Uncle  Kit  got  to  him,  then  he 
acknowledged  that  it  was  all  his  own  fault,  and  that  it 
was  good  enough  for  him. 

As  soon  as  the  fight  was  ended,  Jake  Harrington  and 
I ran  into  camp  to  notify  the  rest  of  our  crowd,  thinking 


124 


THE  FUNERAL. 


that  we  would  have  to  fight  the  entire  Canadian  outfit  of 
trappers,  but  we  found  it  quite  different,  for  after  the  fight 
they  were  more  friendly  toward  us  than  before.  We 

stayed  two  days 
and  helped  to 
bury  Shewman. 

This  was  the 
first  white  man 
that  I had  ever 
seen  buried  in 
the  Rocky 
Mountains. 

We  rolled 
him  up  i n a 
blanket,  laid 
in  the 
and  cov- 
ered him  with 
dirt.  The  fu- 
neral beingover, 
our  party  start- 
ed for  Bent’s 
Fort. 

The  third 
day’s  travel 

brought  us  to  Sweetwater,  where  we  came  to  the  top  of 
a hill,  from  which  we  could  overlook  the  entire  valley, 
which  was  covered  with  wagons  and  tents.  This  was  a 
large  train  of  emigrants  from  various  portions  of  the 
East  who  had  started  the  year  before  and  had  wintered 
on  Platte  river,  the  edge  of  settlement,  and  when  spring 
opened  theyhad  resumed  their  journey. 


He  acknowledged  that  it  was  all  his  own  fault. 


WITH  EMIGRANTS. 


125 


After  supper  that  evening,  Uncle  Kit  suggested  that 
we  visit  the  emigrant  camp  and  see  the  ladies,  which 
did  not  altogether  meet  with  my  approval,  but  rather 
than  be  called  bashful,  I went  along  with  the  crowd.  I 
was  now  twenty-one  years  of  age,  and  this  was  the  first 
time  I had  got  sight  of  a white  woman  since  I was  fif- 
teen, this  now  being  the  year  of  1853. 

I had  been  out  in  the  mountains  a long  time,  and  had 
not  had  my  hair  cut  during  that  time,  but  took  excellent 
care  of  it.  I always  kept  it  rolled  up  in  a piece  of  buck- 
skin, and  when  unrolled  it  would  hang  down  to  my  waist. 

There  was  a number  of  young  ladies  in  the  train,  and 
they  were  not  long  in  learning  that  I was  the  most  bash- 
ful person  in  the  crowd,  and  they  commenced  trying  to 
interest  me  in  conversation.  At  that  time  I only  owned 
two  horses,  and  would  have  given  them  both,  as  free  as 
the  water  that  runs  in  the  brook,  if  I could  only  have 
been  away  from  there  at  that  moment.  Seeing  that  I 
had  long  hair,  each  of  them  wanted  a lock.  By  this 
time  I had  managed  to  muster  courage  enough  to  begin 
to  talk  to  them. 

I told  them  that  if  they  would  sing  a song,  they  might 
have  a lock  of  my  hair. 

A little,  fat  Missouri  girl,  spoke  up  and  said:  “Will 

you  let  any  one  that  sings  have  a lock  of  your  hair?” 

I assured  her  that  I would. 

“And  each  of  us  that  sing?”  interrupted  another 
young  lady. 

I said  each  one  that  would  sing  could  have  a lock, 
provided  there  was  enough  to  go  around. 


126 


THE  PRETTIEST  SONG 


I now  had  the  ice  broken,  and  could  begin  to  talk 
to  the  ladies  and  crack  a few  jokes  with  them. 

The  little,  fat,  chubby  young  lady,  that  6*st  started  the 
conversation,  sang  a song  entitled  “Thc>  Californian’s 
Lament,”  which  was  as  follows: 


Now  pay  attention  unto  me, 

All  you  that  remain  at  home, 

And  think  upon  your  friends 
Who  have  to  California  gone; 

And  while  in  meditation 
It  fills  our  hearts  with  pain, 

That  many  so  near  and  dear  to  us 
We  ne’er  shall  see  again. 

While  in  this  bad  condition, 

With  sore  and  troubled  minds, 
Thinking  of  our  many  friends 
And  those  we  left  behind; 

With  our  hearts  sunk  low  in  trouble, 
Our  feelings  we  cannot  tell, 
Although  so  far  away  from  you, 
Again  we  say,  farewell. 

With  patience  we  submitted 
Our  trials  to  endure, 

And  on  our  weary  journey 
The  mountains  to  explore. 

But  the  fame  of  California 
Has  begun  to  lose  its  hue — 

When  the  soul  and  body  is  parting 
What  good  can  money  do? 


The  fame  of  California 

Has  passed  away  and  gone; 

And  many  a poor  miner 
Will  never  see  his  home. 

They  a,re  falling  in  the  mountains  high, 
And  in  the  valleys,  too; 

They  are  sinking  in  the  briny  deep, 

No  more  to  rise  to  view. 


I HAD  EVER  HEARD. 


\2J 


This  I thought  the  prettiest  song  I had  ever  heard  in 
my  life.  Environment  so  colors  things.  In  other  words, 

‘ ‘circumstances  alter  cases.” 

The  lady  at  once  demanded  a lock  of  my  hair  as 
compensation  for  services  rendered,  and  I removed  the 
buckskin  wrap  and  told  her  to  take  a lock,  but  cautioned 
her  not  to  take  too  large  a bunch,  for  fear  there  might 
not  be  enough  to  go  around.  The  young  lady,  seeing 
that  I was  very  bashful,  had  considerable  trouble  in  find- 
a lock  that  suited  her.  A number  of  the  young  ladies 
sang  together,  after  which  several  of  them  took  the  scis- 


She  had  trouble  in  finding  a lock  that  suited  her. 


sors  and  cut  a lock  of  hair  from  the  head  of  the  young 
trapper. 

I wondered  at  the  time  why  it  was  that  all  the  young 
ladies  had  a pick  at  me,  for  there  was  Johnnie  West,  a 


128 


GIVEN  THREE  CHEERS. 


fine  looking  young  man,  who  was  continually  trying  to 
engage  some  of  them  in  conversation,  but  they  did  not 
want  to  talk  to  any  one  but  me,  and  it  amused  Uncle 
Kit  not  a little  to  see  the  sport  the  young  ladies  were 
having  at  my  expense. 

Before  leaving,  I told  the  young  lady  who  sang  the 
first  song  that  I thought  it  was  the  prettiest  song  I had 
ever  heard,  and  requested  her  to  sing  it  again.  She  re- 
plied that  she  would  if  I wished,  and  she  did. 

The  next  day  about  ten  o’clock  as  we  rode  along, 
feeling  drowsy  from  the  warm  sun,  Jake  Harrington 
turned  around  in  his  saddle,  yawned  and  said:  “Well, 

Will,  can’t  you  sing  the  song  for  us  that  you  learned 
from  those  little  Missouri  gals  last  night?” 

I told  him  I thought  I could,  and  commenced  clear- 
ing up  my  throat,  at  which  the  entire  crowd  smiled  above 
a whisper;  but  I surprised  the  crowd  by  starting  in  and 
singing  the  song  just  as  I heard  the  young  lady  sing  it  the 
evening  before.  Every  man  in  the  crowd  took  off  his 
hat,  and  they  gave  me  three  cheers. 

On  arriving  at  Bent’s  Fort  we  learned  that  furs  were 
high,  and  notwithstanding  our  catch  was  light,  Uncle  Kit 
did  fairly  well. 

He  sold  his  furs  again  to  Col.  Bent  and  Mr.  Roubi- 
doux. 

After  Uncle  Kit  had  settled  up  with  all  the  other 
boys,  he  called  me  into  the  tent  and  said: 

“Willie,  I have  settled  with  all  the  men  now  but  you; 
how  much  am  I owing  you?” 

Up  to  this  time  I had  never  received  any  wages  from 
Uncle  Kit,  nor  had  I expected  any,  for  I did  not  think 


MY  FIRST  WAGES. 


129 


that  I had  done  enough  for  him  to  pay  for  my  raising. 

I had  always  felt  under  obligations  to  him  for  picking  me 
up  when  I was  without  a home  and  almost  penniless, 
and  had,  as  I considered  made  a man  of  me. 

Uncle  Kit  told  me  that  I was  old  enough  now  to  do  a 
man’s  work,  and  that  I was  able  to  fill  a man’s  place  in 
every  respect.  He  took  his  purse  from  his  pocket, 
counted  me  out  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  in  gold; 
and  not  until  then  had  I known  that  he  had  ordered  me 
a fifty  dollar  suit  of  buckskin  made  at  Taos,  the  fall  be- 
fore; and  not  until  then  had  he  told  me  that  he  was  to 
be  married  on  the  tenth  of  July,  and  wanted  Johnnie 
West  and  I to  be  there  without  fail.  I asked  him  who 
he  was  going  to  be  married  to.  He  said  her  name  was 
Rosita  Cavirovious.  She  was  a Mexican  girl  who  lived 
in  Taos.  I did  not  know  the  lady  but  was  acquainted 
with  some  of  her  brothers.  I told  Uncle  Kit  that  I 
would  surely  be  there. 

Uncle  Kit  and  Jim  Beckwith  now  started  for  Taos, 
and  Johnnie  West  and  I began  making  preparations  to 
start  in  hunting  for  Col.  Bent  and  Mr.  Roubidoux,  as  per 
contract  nearly  one  year  before. 

Col.  Bent  said  that  he  was  very  glad  that  we  were 
ready  to  start  in  hunting,  as  they  had  been  out  of  fresh 
meat  at  least  half  of  the  time  that  spring. 

In  that  country  bacon  was  high,  being  worth  from 
twenty-five  to  thirty  cents  per  pound,  and  early  in  the 
spring  higher  even  than  that. 

This  spring,  as  usual,  there  were  some  thirty  trappers 
congregated  at  Bent’s  Fort,  apparently  to  eat  and  drink 
up  what  money  they  had  earned  during  the  winter. 


13° 


ON  THE  PlJRGATOIRE. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Marriage  of  Kit  Carson. — The  wedding  feast. -- 
Providing  buffalo  meat,  in  the  original  pack- 
age, FOR  THE  BOARDING-HOUSE  AT  BENT’S  FORT. 


Johnnie  West  and  I started  with  a saddle-horse  each 
and  four  pack-mules  for  a buffalo  hunt;  I still  riding 
Croppy,  the  pony  Uncle  Kit  had  given  me  at  St.  Louis, 
but  he  was  getting  old  and  somewhat  stiffened  up  in  his 
shoulders. 

We  traveled  up  the  Arkansas  river  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Purgatoire — pronounced  in  that  country  Picket  Wire — 
which  was  about  thirty  miles  from  Bent’s  Fort.  Seeing 
a small  band  of  buffalo  some  distance  away,  we  took  the 
pack-saddles  off  of  the  mules  and  turned  them  out  to 
graze,  mounted  our  saddle-horses  and  were  off  for  the 
herd;  but  the  wily  beasts  got  wind  of  us  and  started  off 
before  we  got  within  gunshot  of  them.  After  running 
them  about  a mile  we  overhauled  them,  both  fired  and 
each  killed  a yearling  calf  while  on  the  run.  I fastened 
my  rifle  to  the  pommel  of  the  saddle,  drew  my  pistol, 
and  there  being  a very  fine  heifer  that  had  dropped  back 
to  the  rear,  I spurred  up  by  the  side  of  her  and  was  just 
in  the  act  of  firing,  when  old  Croppy  stepped  into  a prai- 
rie-dog hole  and  fell  with  me. 

Johnnie  West  had  just  fired  his  second  shot  and  killed 
a fine  three-year-old  heifer,  when  he  looked  aud  saw  old 


death  of  Croppy. 


131 


Croppy  lying  there,  and  I stretched  out  beside  him,  ap- 
parently dead.  The  first  thing  I knew  after  the  fall, 
Johnnie  West  was  sitting  by  my  side  slapping  me  in  the 
face  with  his  hand. 

I was  badly  bruised  but  no  bones  were  broken,  and  as 
soon  as  I recovered  sufficiently  to  know  for  a certainty 
that  I was  not  dead,  an  examination  of  old  Croppy  devel- 
oped the  fact  that  his  left  shoulder  was  badly  broken.  I 
being  too  chicken-hearted  to  shoot  him,  got  Johnnie 
West  to  put  him  out  of  his  misery,  and  now  I was  left 
afoot  and  thirty  miles  from  home.  Johnnie  West  went 
back  and  got  our  pack-mules.  We  dressed  our  buffalo 
and  had  plenty  of  meat  to  load  all  of  our  mules,  and 
some  to  leave  there  for  the  hungry  cayotes.  That  night 
while  we  were  cooking  some  of  the  meat  for  supper,  the 
cayotes  raised  a howl  and  it  seemed  as  though  they 
would  take  possession  of  our  camp  in  spite  of  us;  but  by 
firing  a shot  among  them  once  in  a while,  we  were 
able  to  keep  them  at  bay. 

In  those  days  hunters  never  took  along  anything  to 
eat,  for  a man  that  could  not  kill  what  he  could  eat  was 
considered  worthless. 

The  following  morning  we  loaded  our  meat  on  the 
mules,  lashed  my  saddle  on  top  of  one  of  the  packs  and 
started  for  Bent’s  Fort.  I being  bruised  and  crippled  up 
from  the  effects  of  my  fall,  Johnnie  let  me  ride  his  horse 
and  he  walked  almost  the  entire  way  home. 

Mr.  Roubidoux  on  learning  that  I had  left  old  Croppy 
dead  on  the  prairie,  said:  ‘‘I  have  got  the  best  buffalo 

horse  on  the  plains,  and  I will  make  you  a present  of 


132  Kit  Carson's  marriage. 

him;”  and  turning  to  his  herder,  he  said,  “go  and  bring 
Pinto  in.” 

When  the  spotted  horse  was  brought  in,  Mr.  Roubi- 
doux  said:  “Now,  Will,  I am  going  to  make  you  a 

present  of  this  horse,  and  I want  you  to  keep  him  to  re- 
member me  by.” 

I thought  this  the  prettiest  horse  I had  ever  laid  eyes 
on,  and  he  proved  to  be  as  good  a buffalo  horse  as  Mr. 
Roubidoux  had  represented  him  to  be. 

On  the  third  day  of  July,  Johnnie  West  and  I having 
enough  meat  ahead  to  last  several  days,  we  pulled  out 
for  Taos  to  attend  the  wedding  of  Kit  Carson.  Arriving 
there,  Uncle  Kit  took  us  to  his  house. 

He  brought  my  new  buckskin  suit,  and  I know  it  was 
the  handsomest  of  the  kind  I had  ever  seen.  On  the 
front  of  the  trousers  was  the  finest  of  bead  work,  repre- 
senting horses,  Indians,  buffalo,  deer  and  various  other 
animals;  and  on  the  coat  the  same,  except  they  were 
worked  with  beads  and  porcupine  quills. 

I was  now  twenty-one  years  old,  and  had  never  at- 
tended a wedding.  The  ladies  present  all  being  of  Catho- 
lic faith,  Uncle  Kit  and  his  bride  were  married  in  the 
Catholic  church  by  the  priest. 

There  were  at  that  time  about  five  hundred  inhabi- 
tants in  Taos,  and  every  man,  woman  and  child  attended 
the  wedding  of  Kit  Carson. 

After  the  ceremony  was  over  all  marched  down  about 
three  blocks  to  where  there  had  been  a whole  bullock 
roasted,  also  three  sheep.  The  tables  used  were  made 
of  rude  boards  split  out  with  a froe.  There  were  no 
table-rloths,  no  tea  or  coffee,  but  plenty  of  wine  and  an 


Cheyenne  Camp, 


territory. 


THE  WEDDING  FEAST. 


133 


abundance  of  meat,  that  all  might  “eat,  drink  and  be 
merry.  ” 

While  we  were  at  the  supper  table  Uncle  Kit  hap- 
pened to  get  sight  of  Johnnie  West  and  I,  and,  taking 
each  of  us  by  the  hand,  he  led  us  over  and  gave  us  an  in- 
troduction to  his  wife,  and  this  was  the  first  time  I had 
ever  been  introduced  to  a lady.  Uncle  Kit  introduced 
me  as  his  Willie.  Mrs.  Carson  turned  to  me  and  said: 

“Ge-lem-a  mo  cass-a  la-mis-mo  ta-casso  tades 
vases;  meaning,  “Willie,  my  house  shall  be  your  home 
at  any  and  all  times.,, 

As  I do  not  write  Spanish,  I simply  give  the  sound  of 
her  words  as  she  spoke  them — or  as  I would. 

* I was  highly  pleased  with  the  manner  in  which  Mrs.. 
Carson  addressed  me,  for  no  lady  had  ever  spoken  so 
kindly  to  me  before,  and  I had  supposed  that  after 
Uncle  Kit  was  married  I would  have  to  hunt  another 
home. 

Supper  being  over,  all  repaired  to  the  dance  hall  and 
enjoyed  themselves  dancing  until  sunrise  the  next  morn- 
ing, when  they  returned  to  the  tables  for  breakfast. 
This  time  they  had  coffee  and  tea,  but  during  the  entire 
feast  they  did  not  have  a bite  of  bread  on  the  table. 

Here  I met  Jim  Beckwith,  of  whom  there  will  be 
much  more  said  at  intervals  later  on. 

Jim  wanted  me  to  accompany  him  to  California  the 
following  spring,  saying  that  he  knew  of  a pass  through 
the  Sierra  Nevada  Mountains,  which,  if  we  could  manage 
to  get  the  tide  of  emigration  turned  that  way,  we  could 
establish  a toll  road  and  make  a fortune  out  of  it.  I said 


134 


with  Col.  Bent. 


I would  not  promise  him  now,  but  would  give  him  an 
answer  later  on. 

The  wedding  being  over,  Johnnie  West  and  I,  after  bid- 
ding Uncle  Kit  and  his  wife  good-bye,  started  for  Bent’s 
Fort.  Col.  Bent  and  Mr.  Roubidoux  wanted  to  employ 
us  to  hunt  for  them  the  coming  winter.  Johnnie  thought 
he  could  do  better  trapping,  but  I hired  to  them  to  huut 
until  the  following  spring. 

Col.  Bent  always  had  from  six  to  twenty  boarders, 
having  six  men  of  his  own,  and  I kept  them  in  meat  all 
winter,  alone. 

About  the  first  of  April — this  being  in  1854 — I settled 
up  with  the  Colonel,  and  having  written  Jim  Beckwith 
the  fall  before  that  I would  be  on  hand  to  go  with  him 
to  California,  I now  pulled  out  for  Taos. 

I visited  with  Uncle  Kit  and  his  wife  while  at  Taos, 
and  found  that  what  Mrs.  Carson  had  said  at  the  feast 
was  true,  for  I was  as  welcome  at  their  home  as  though 
I was  one  of  the  family. 

Jim  Beckwith  had  everything  in  readiness  for  our  trip 
across  the  Sierra  Nevada  Mountains. 

The  day  before  starting,  Uncle  Kit  asked  us  what 
route  we  would  take.  Jim  said  that  we  would  go  around 
by  the  headwaters  of  the  Gila  river,  this  being  a tribu- 
tary to  the  Colorado.  On  this  trip  we  would  cross  that 
part  of  the  country  which  is  now  Arizona.  Uncle  Kit 
said  this  was  a good  route,  and  that  he  had  gone  over  it 
twice  in  company  with  Col.  Fremont.  He  drew  a dia- 
gram of  the  country,  showing  the  route  by  streams, 
mountains  and  valleys;  telling  us  also  what  tribes  of  In- 
dians inhabited  each  section  of  the  country  that  we  would 


off  for  California. 


135 


pass  through.  Among  the  different  tribes  spoken  of  was 
the  Pimas,  whom  he  said  were  friendly  toward  the  whites, 
and  insisted  on  our  calling  on  that  tribe,  provided  we 
went  that  way. 

He  had  been  at  their  village  in  1845,  and  at  that 
time  they  had  told  him  he  was  the  third  white  man  they 
had  ever  seen. 

The  reader  will  understand  that  all  the  Indians  in 
that  section  of  the  country  at  that  time  could  speak 
Spanish,  having  learned  it  from  the  Aztecs,  a tribe  that 
lived  in  Old  Mexico  and  were  of  Montezuma’s  race. 
Thev  often  came  out  into  that  country  to  trade  with  the 
other  Indians. 

All  being  ready  we  bade  Uncle  Kit  and  his  wife  good- 
bye, and  were  off  for  California.  We  crossed  the  Rocky 
Mountains  up  the  Arkansas  river  and  took  the  trail  made 
by.  Col.  Fremont  in  1848  to  the  summit  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  We  then  crossed  over  the  mountains  on  to 
the  headwaters  of  the  south  fork  of  Grand  river,  and 
from  here  we  headed  almost  south,  passing  through  a 
country  that  had  all  been  burned  over.  We  could  look 
ahead  for  miles  and  see  nothing  but  burnt  hills.  Game 
was  so  scarce  that  we  could  barely  kill  enough  to  supply 
us  with  food,  until  we  struck  the  north  fork  of  Gila  river. 
Here  we  found  plenty  of  game.  We  traveled  down  the 
Gila  three  days,  which  brought  us  to  the  Pima — or  as 
was  sometimes  then  called  Peone — village.  This  village 
was  situated  in  a lovely  valley  about  twenty  miles  long 
and  ten  wide.  The  soil  was  very  fertile.  The  surround- 
ing mountains  were  very  high  and  covered  with  fine  tim- 
ber, while  the  foothills  were  luxuriant  in  the  finest 


at  Pima  village. 


136 

quality  of  bunchgrass,  and  along  the  little  mountain 
streams  were  cottonwood  and  willows. 

The  Indians  here  were  fairly  well  civilized,  a fact 
worthy  of  note,  as  they  had  never  had  a missionary  or 
priest  among  them.  They  also  had  a different  mode  of 
worship  from  the  tribes  of  the  Northwest.  Their  place 
of  worship  was  what  might  be  called  a large  shed  con- 
structed by  setting  posts  in  the  ground  and  covered  with 
poles,  brush  and  the  leaves  of  the  century  plant,  these 
leaves  being  from  three  to  five  feet  long  and  from  six  to 
ten  inches  wide.  Their  houses  were  also  covered  with 
these  leaves. 

I never  saw  but  two  of  these  plants  in  bloom.  One 
was  about  fifty  miles  north  of  Sacramento  and  the  other 
in  Golden  Gate  Park,  near  San  Francisco.  It  was  said 
they  held  their  flowers  four  months.  These  flowers  are 
very  beautiful,  being  four  inches  across  and  look  as 
though  they  were  made  of  wax. 

But  to  return  to  my  story.  These  Indians  had  three 
days  of  worship,  also  three  days  of  feasting.  On  assem- 
bling at  their  place  of  worship,  the  chief  chose  four  men 
from  the  audience,  whom  we  would  term  preachers, 
but  which  they  called  abblers.  They  never  pray,  but  the 
abblers  stand  up  and  talk  to  the  audience,  during  which 
time  the  Indians  preserve  the  very  best  order.  The  ab- 
blers tell  them  what  they  must  do  and  what  they  must 
not  do.  When  ready  to  break  up,  all  join  in  singing, 
but  never  sing  before  preaching.  Just  how  they  learned 
this  mode  of  worship  was  a mystery  to  me,  and  is  yet, 
for  that  matter.  We  attended  service  while  in  the  village 


Ta-her-ye-qua-hip,  or  Horse  Back’s  Camp. 


THEIR  INDUSTRY. 


J37 


and  after  preaching  was  over  many  of  them  invited  us 
home  with  them. 

There  were  about  five  hundred  men  in  this  tribe,  all  of 
whom  were  apparently  very  industrious,  raising  corn, 
melons,  red  pepper  and  other  vegetables  in  abundance. 
They  raised  some  very  large  melons,  which  were  not  ex- 
cellent in  flavor,  however. 

The  Pimas  were  very  kind  to  us  while  we  were  with 
them,  often  taking  us  out  to  their  truck  patches  and  pul- 
ling nice,  large  melons  for  us.  I asked  a very  aged  Indian 
where  they  got  their  seed  corn,  but  he  did  not  know, 
saying  they  had  raised  it  ever  since  he  could  remember. 
They  did  their  plowing  with  wooden  plows,  which  they 
made  themselves,  being  pulled  by  oxen  that  were  hitched 
to  the  plows  by  a strong  stick  in  front  of  their  horns. 
For  harrows  they  used  brush,  and  they  had  shovels  made 
of  wood  to  dig  with. 

Notwithstanding  they  were  in  one  sense  uncivilized, 
they  showed  us  more  hospitality  during  the  time  we  were 
with  them  than  most  white  people  would  have  shown  to 
strangers. 

These  Indians  keep  their  age  by  taking  a piece  of 
horn,  pressing  it  out  flat  and  punching  a hole  in  the  cen- 
ter. When  a child  is  a certain  age  he  has  one  of  these  tied 
about  his  neck,  and  every  year  the  child  is  supposed  to 
cut  a notch  in  the  piece  of  horn.  I did  not  learn  how 
old  they  had  to  be  before  they  were  supposed  to  keep 
tlieir  own  age. 

We  found  the  chief  of  the  tribe  to  be  very  obliging. 
He  told  us  the  Apaches  were  bad  Indians,  and  that  they 
had  killed  many  white  people — men,  women  and  children. 


138 


THE  NAKED  YUMAS. 


When  we  were  ready  to  leave  the  village,  the  chief 
came  out  and  bade  us  good-bye,  and  gave  us  a cordial 
invitation  to  call  on  him  when  passing  through  the 
country. 

We  crossed  the  Gila  river  near  where  Colville  now 
stands.  Here  was  a tribe  of  very  indolent  Indians,  that 
during  this  season  of  the  year  did  not  wear  a stitch  of 
clothing  of  any  kind  whatever.  They  were  known  as  the 
Yum  as. 

We  both  emptied  our  rifles  before  crossing  the  river, 
knowing  that  they  would  get  wet  in  crossing.  I fired  at 
a bird  across  the  river  and  it  fell  to  the  ground. 

At  the  crack  of  my  rifle  the  Indians  ran  a few  paces 
from  me,  dropped  down  and  Stuck  their  fingers  in  their 
ears.  They  told  us  in  Spanish  that  they  had  never  seen 
a wah-hootus  before,  meaning  a gun  with  a loud  report. 

When  Jim  Beckwith  went  to  fire  his  gun  off,  the 
sqauws  all  ran  away,  but  the  bucks,  being  more  brave, 
stayed,  but  held  their  hands  over  their  ears.  This  tribe 
lived  principally  on  fish. 

The  reader  will  remember  that  I had  traveled  over 
this  same  country  in  the  year  1849  company  with  Kit 
Carson  and  Col.  Fremont,  when  on  our  trip  to  California. 

After  traveling  about  five  miles  we  crossed  a little 
sage-brush  valley  that  was  almost  covered  with  jack-rab- 
bits, and  they  were  dying  by  the  thousand.  We  could 
see  twenty  at  one  time  lying  dead  in  the  sage-brush. 

That  night  we  camped  on  what  has  since  been  known 
as  Beaver  creek,  and  here  we  had  to  strike  across  the 
San  Antonio  desert,  and  having  been  across  the  desert  I 
knew  it  would  be  eighty  miles  to  water.  Having  two 


THE  GOSHOOTS. 


139 


parafleshes  with  us  for  such  emergencies,  we  filled  them 
with  water  to  use  in  crossing  this  desert. 

A paraflesh  is  made  of  rawhide  expressly  to  carry 

water  in,  and 
are  frequent- 
ly used  to 
peddle  milk 
by  the  Mexi- 
cans. 

The  second 
day  from 
Beaver  creek 
we  reached  a 
little  stream 
near  the  Go- 
shoot  village, 
this  being  the 
place  where 
Uncle  Kit  fin- 
ished buying 
furs  to  load 

The  next  morning  we  reached  the  village.  I had  not 
seen  any  of  these  Indians  for  five  years.  Then  I was  a 
mere  boy  and  now  a grown  man,  but  every  one  of  the 
Goshoots  knew  me  and  were  glad  to  meet  me.  We 
stopped  that  day  and  visited  with  them,  and  bought  some 
venison  and  frigoles,  or  beans. 

The  next  morning  we  resumed  our  journey  to  Los 
Angeles,  crossing  the  extreme  northeast  part  of  Death 
Valley.  From  here  on  the  country  was  all  new  to  me, 


Crossing  the  desert. 

Iiis  pack-train  in  1848. 


140 


at  Los  Angeles. 


and  had  it  not  been  for  the  kindness  of  the  Goshoot  In- 
dians, we  would  have  perished  for  the  want  of  water. 

When  I told  a good  Indian  in  that  village  where  we 
were  going,  he  sat  down  and  with  his  finger  marked  a 
diagram  in  the  dust,  showing  the  lay  of  the  country  that 
we  must  pass  ever,  every  little  blind  spring  near  the  trail, 
the  different  mountains  and  valleys,  and  made  it  so  plain 
that  we  could  scarcely  have  made  a mistake  on  the  trip. 

On  arriving  at  Los  Angeles  we  found  only  one  white 
man  in  the  place,  and  he  was  the  only  person  in  the 
whole  town  that  could  speak  the  English  language.  He 
had  arrived  there  some  years  before,  married  a Mexican 
woman  and  had  got  to  be  very  wealthy.  He  tried  to  in- 
duce us  to  go  farther  up  the  coast,  telling  us  if  we  starred 
for  San  Francisco  the  country  was  full  of  Mexicans,  and 
that  they  despised  all  Americans  and  would  be  sure  to 
murder  us  on  our  way;  but  as  we  had  started  for  San 
Francisco,  we  were  determined  to  see  that  city  if  pos- 
sible. After  laying  over  one  day  with  the  old  American 
we  resumed  our  journey. 

The  next  place  we  struck  was  Monterey,  where  is 
now  the  famous  Hotel  del  Monte,  about  two  hundred 
miles  from  Los  Angeles.  Here  we  did  not  find  a man 
who  could  speak  a word  of  English,  and  we  found  the 
Mexicans  still  more  selfish  than  in  Los  Angeles. 

We  began  to  think  that  the  old  white  man  had  told 
the  truth,  for  we  would  not  have  been  surprised  at  any 
time  to  have  been  attacked  by  a band  of  Mexicans. 

While  here  I saw  two  persons  that  I thought  to  be 
curiosities.  They  were  of  Indian  parentage,  light  com- 
plexion and  had  eyes  of  a pink  color.  One  was  a boy  about 


TWO  FREAKS. 


141 

twenty  years  old  and  the  other  a girl  of  sixteen,  and  were 
brother  and  sister.  It  was  claimed  that  they  could  see 
well  after  night,  but  could  not  see  their  way  on  a bright, 
sunny  day. 

These  Indians  were  said  to  be  of  the  Mojave  tribe, 
that  inhabited  a portion  of  the  country  some  six  hundred 
miles  east  of  Monterey,  near  the  Mojave  desert.  I have 
since  learned  that  such  freaks  are  called  albinos. 

The  reader  will  no  doubt  wonder  why  we  came  this 
round-about  away  to  get  to  San  Francisco.  The  reason 
is  that  in  coming  a more  direct  course  we  would  have 
passed  through  a country  that  was  infested  with  wild  tribes 
of  Indians;  that  is,  tribes  hostile  to  the  whites.  There 
being  only  two  of  us  the  chances  were  it  would  have 
proved  a very  unhealthy  trip  for  us  at  that  time. 


CHAPTER  X. 


Robber  gamblers  of  San  Francisco. — Engaged  by 
Col.  Elliott  as  Indian  scout. — Kills  and  scalps 
five  Indians. — Promoted  to  chief  scout. 


Arriving  at  San  Francisco  we  found  things  very  lively, 
this  being  about  the  time  of  the  greatest  gold  excitement 

in  California. 


142 


“PLAYED  OUT  OF  LUCK. 


• » 


Here  was  the  first  city  of  note  that  I had  been  in 
since  leaving  St.  Louis;  here  also  was  the  first  time  I had 
seen  gambling  going  on  on  a large  scale.  There  were  all 
kinds  of  games  and  all  kinds  of  traps  to  catch  the  honest 
miner  and  rob  him  of  his  money  that  he  had  labored 
hard  to  dig  out  of  the  ground.  xy 

That  night  Jim  Beckwith  and  I took  in  the  sights  of 
the  city.  We  went  to  the  different  gambling  houses  and 
had  just  finished  our  tour  and  were  on  our  way  back  to 
the  What  Cheer  house — that  being  the  hotel  at  which 
we  put  up — the  leading  hotel  in  the  city  then.  We  were 
just  passing  one  of  the  gambling  dens,  when  we  saw  two 
men  coming  out  of  the  door  leading  a man  between  them 
who  was  crying  like  a child,  and  exclaiming:  “I  am 

ruined!  I am  ruined!” 

We  learned  from  the  two  men  that  he  had  come  to  the 
city  that  day  with  eight  hundred  dollars  in  gold,  had 
bought  a ticket  for  New  York,  and  it  was  his  intention  to 
sail  for  that  city  the  following  morning.  But  he  had 
gone  out  that  night  to  have  a farewell  spree  with  his 
friends,  got  too  much  booze,  started  in  gambling,  think- 
ing he  might  double  his  money  by  morning;  but  like 
thousands  of  other  miners  in  those  days,  he  “played  out 
of  luck,”  as  they  termed  it,  and  had  lost  every  cent  he* 
had. 

We  walked  on  down  to  the  hotel,  and  in  a few  min- 
utes the  three  came  into  the  hotel  also,  the  one  still  cry- 
ing like  a baby.  The  proprietor  only  laughed  and  said 
it  was  a common  occurrence  for  men  to  come  to  the  city 
with  even  twenty  thousand  dollars,  gamble  it  off  in  less 
than  a week  and  then  return  to  the  mines  to  make  an- 


Beckwith  Pass. 


M3 


other  stake.  But  he  said  he  had  never  seen  a man  be- 
fore that  took  it  as  hard  as  this  one  did. 

% 

It  was  all  new  to  me,  and  a little  of  it  went  a long 
ways. 

That  night  after  Jim  Beckwith  and  I had  retired,  I 
told  him  that  I had  seen  all  of  San  Francisco  that  I cared 
to,  and  was  ready  to  leave.  However,  we  stayed  two 
days  longer,  after  which  we  pulled  out  for  the  Sierra  Ne- 
vadas,  by  the  way  of  Hangtown,  a little  mining  camp 
situated  at  the  American  Fork.  Here  we  crossed  over  a 
pass  that  Jim  had  told  me  of  more  than  a year  previous, 
which  led  us  to  the  headwaters  of  the  Carson  river. 

I proposed  we  give  it  the  name  of  Beckwith  Pass;  and 
from  that  day  to  this  it  has  been  known  by  that  name, 
and  since  has  been  made  a splendid  stage  road. 

After  traveling  down  the  Carson  river  some  distance, 
we  met  a party  of  miners  who  informed  us  that  a few 
days  previous  a band  of  Indians  down  on  the  Humboldt 
had  made  an  attack  on  an  emigrant  train,  cut  off  a por- 
tion of  the  train,  stampeded  the  teams,  killed  all  the 
people  of  that  part  of  the  train  and  burned  the  wagons. 

They  also  informed  us  that  Col.  Elliott  was  down  on 
what  was  known  as  Truckee  Meadows  with  a company 
of  soldiers,  but,  so  far,  was  having  very  poor  success  kill- 
ing Indians. 

Col.  Elliott  had  been  sent  out  there  with  four  compa- 
nies of  cavalry  to  protect  the  emigrants  against  the  Pah- 
Ute  or  Piute  Indians,  which  were  very  numerous  down 
on  the  Humboldt,  and  around  the  sink  of  the  Carson  and 
as  far  up  the  mountains  as  Lake  Tahoe. 

Jim  being  very  well  acquainted  with  Col.  Elliott,  pro- 


144 


Meet  Col.  Elliott. 


posed  we  go  around  that  way,  thinking  that  the  Colonel 
might  be  able  to  assist  materially  in  turning  the  tide  of 
emigration  through  his  pass,  his  object  being  to  get  as 
much  travel  that  way  this  fall  as  possible,  and  the  fol- 
lowing spring  he  would  establish  a toll  road  through  that 
pass. 

Col.  Elliott  was  pleased  at  meeting  Jim,  and  in  the 
conversation  said:  “Beckwith,  I am  very  glad,  indeed, 

to  see  you.  You  are  just  the  man  I have  been  wanting 
this  long  time,  for  I haven’t  a scout  in  my  entire  com- 
mand that  is  worth  a cent  to  scout  for  Indians.  I don’t 
believe  there  is  one  of  them  that  would  dare  to  leave 
headquarters  fifteen  miles  alone,  and  I want  to  e'mploy 
you  as  chief  of  scouts.” 

Jim  thanked  the  Colonel  kindly  for  the  honor,  but 
told  him  he  could  not  accept  the  offer  as  he  had  another 
matter  he  wished  to  attend  to,  and  told  him  of  the  scheme 
he  had  on  hand.  But,  he  said,  he  had  a young  man  with 
him  that  he  could  recommend  highly  for  that  position, 
and  he  gave  me  a great  send  off  as  a scout. 

The  Colonel  insisted  on  our  going  with  him  to  his 
private  quarters  for  supper,  which  we  did,  and  after  hav- 
ing a pleasant  visit  with  him,  we  returned  to  our  own 
camp  for  the  night. 

When  we  were  ready  to  take  our  departure  for  the 
evening,  Col.  Elliott  said:  “Mr.  Drannan,  can  I see  you 

privately  to-morrow  morning  at  nine  o’clock?” 

I told  him  that  I would  call  at  his  quarters  at  that 
hour. 

After  Jim  and  I had  reached  our  camp  I asked  him 
why  he  had  misrepresented  me  to  Col.  Elliott  in  the  way 


ENGAGED  BY  HIM 


H5 

he  had,  when  he  knew  I had  never  scouted  a day  in  my 
life,  knew  nothing  of  scouting  and  had  done  very  little 
Indian  fighting. 

Jim  said:  4 'You  are  a young  man  and  have  been 

among  the  Indians  long  enough  to  be  pretty  well  ac- 
quainted with  their  habits.  There  is  not  a single  fellow 
in  Elliott’s  outfit  knows  as  much  about  scouting  as  my 
black  horse,  and  if  you  ever  intend  starting  in,  now  is 
your  chance.  That  is  the  reason  I gave  you  such  a send 
off  to  the  Colonel.” 

After  thinking  the  matter  over,  I concluded  that  Jim 
was  right  in  regard  to  it,  and  now  was  a good  time  to 
make  a start. 

After  breakfast  the  next  morning  I met  Col.  Elliott 
at  his  quarters  at  the  time  appointed.  He  invited  me  in 
and  set  out  a bottle  of  whiskey  and  a glass.  I thanked 
him,  but  declined  to  drink. 

"Where  were  you  raised,”  said  the  Colonel,  "that 
you  do  not  drink  whiskey?  I thought  you  grew  up  in  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  ” 

I told  him  that  I did,  but  was  not  raised  to  drink 
whiskey.  I also  told  him  that  I had  been  brought  up, 
since  a boy  fifteen  years  old,  by  Kit  Carson. 

The  Colonel  asked  me  many  questions  about  Indians, 
their  habits,  my  idea  of  fighting  them  and  so  on,  after 
which  he  asked  me  if  I would  like  a position  as  scout.  I 
told  him  I would,  provided  there  was  enough  in  it  to 
justify  me. 

The  Colonel  made  me  a proposition  of  one  hundred 
dollars  a month  and  rations,  I to  furnish  my  own  horses. 
I could  also  turn  my  extra  horses  in  with  the  Government 


146 


as  Indian  scout. 


horses  and  it  would  cost  me  nothing  to  have  them  herded. 
I accepted  his  proposition,  agreeing  to  start  in  on  the 
following  morning.  I also  had  an  agreement  with  him 
that  when  I did  not  suit  him,  he  was  to  pay  me  off  and  1 
would  quit.  Also,  when  he  did  not  suit  me,  I was  to 
have  the  privilege  of  quitting  at  any  time,  all  of  which 
was  satisfactory  to  him,  and  I started  in  on  the  following 
morning  as  per  agreement. 

•That  evening  about  sunset  three  of  Col.  Elliott’s 
scouts  came  in,  and  he  gave  me  an  introduction  to  them, 
telling  them  that  I was  going  to  be  a brother  scout. 
After  supper  I had  a long  talk  with  one  of  them,  in  which 
he  posted  me  somewhat  as  to  the  different  watering 
places,  grass,  etc. 

From  him  I learned  that  they  had  not  seen  an  Indian 
for  three  days,  but  had  seen  any  amount  of  sign  every  day, 
which  was  evidence  that  there  were  plenty  of  Indians 
in  the  country. 

The  following  morning  when  I went  for  my  orders  I 
was  much  surprised  at  the  Colonel  saying:  “Oh,  damn  it! 
I don’t  care.  Go  any  way  you  please  and  as  far  as  you 
please.  The  other  boys  say  there  is  not  an  Indian  in 
fifty  miles  of  here,  and  if  you  find  any  you  will  do  better 
than  any  man  I have  sent  out,  so  far.” 

When  I went  to  order  my  lunch,  and  told  the  negro 
cook  to  put  up  enough  to  last  me  until  the  next  night,  he 
looked  at  me  and  said:  “Whar  you  goin’,  boss?”  Jim 

told  him  I was  going  out  to  get  some  cayote  scalps. 

I now  mounted  Mexico — the  horse  that  Mr.  Reed  had 
given  me  at  the  City  of  Mexico — and  started  off  on  my 


SPIES  THREE  REDSKINS. 


*47 


first  scouting  trip,  taking  an  easterly  direction  until  I had 
struck  the  old  emigrant  road. 

After  I had  left  camp  the  other  scouts  were  talking 
among  themselves,  and  none  of  them  thought  I would 
ever  return.  One  of  the  scouts  told  Jim  that  I was  the 
biggest  fool  that  he  had  ever  seen,  to  start  out  scouting 
in  a strange  re- 
gion and  not 
ask  anything 
about  the  coun- 
try, grass, 
water,  Indians, 
or  anything 
else. 

“Don’t  be 
alarmed  about 
that  boy,”  said 
Jim,  “he'll  take 
care  of  himself 
in  any  man’s 
country.” 

I had  been 

taught  by  Uncle  Kit  that  when  I attempted  to  do  a thing 
to  carry  it  out  at  all  hazards,  if  it  was  in  my  power  to 
do  so. 

After  I had  ridden  about  twelve  miles  or  so,  and  was 
just  entering  the  mouth  of  a little  ravine,  on  looking  up 
the  same  ravine  I saw  three  Indians  who  had  just  hove 
in  sight  over  the  hill.  I dropped  back  from  their  view  as 
quick  as  I could,  which  only  took  about  two  or  three 
jumps  of  my  horse. 


148 


IN  A QUANDARY. 


The  Indians  having  their  backs  toward  me,  I was 
confident  they  had  not  seen  me.  They  were  heading  for 
the  emigrant  trail,  that  being  what  we  called  the  wagon 
road  across  the  plains  in  those  days. 

I rode  around  the  point  of  a hill  and  tied  my  horse 
in  a washout  where  he  would  be  hid  from  view,  climbed 
up  the  top  of  the  hill  and  saw  five  warriors,  riding  direct 
for  the  trail.  After  watching  them  for  a short  time  I 
hurried  back  to  my  horse,  mounted  him  and  rode  as  fast 
as  Mexico  could  conveniently  carry  me — over  this  sage- 
brush country — about  a quarter  of  a mile  in  an  opposite 
direction  to  which  the’  Indians  were  traveling.  Riding 
up  to  the  head  of  a little  ravine,  where  I could  tie  my 
horse  in  a place  where  he  would  not  be  discovered  by  the 
redskins,  I dismounted,  tied  my  horse  and  crawled  up 
through  the  sagebrush  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  where  I 
could  watch  the  movements  of  the  Indians. 

This  was  a rolling  country,  low  hills  covered  with  a 
heavy  growth  of  sagebrush,  and  not  a tree  of  any  descrip- 
tion to  be  seen  anywhere. 

I had  discovered  my  game,  but  how  to  capture  it  was 
what  puzzled  me. 

The  reader  can  have  a faint  idea  of  the  situation  of 
a young  man  in  a strange  country  and  a sandy,  sage- 
brush plain,  who  did  not  know  where  to  find  either  water 
or  grass.  If  I returned  to  headquarters  they  would  escape 
me,  and  this  being  my  first  timeout  in  the  scouting  busi- 
ness, I could  not  afford  to  let  them  get  away.  So,  after 
holding  a private  council  with  myself,  I decided  these  In- 
dians were  spies,  who  were  scouting  for  a large  party  of 
Indians  that  were  somewhere  in  this  part  oi  the  country, 


CONFIDENCE  IN  MEXICO. 


149 


and  that  they  were  looking  for  emigrants,  and  in  case 
they  did  not  see  any  such  that  day,  they  would  no  doubt 
go  to  water  that  night. 

I laid  there  on  the  hill  watching  their  movements  and 
trying  to  devise  some  plan  by  which  I could  capture  them 
then. 

Could  I only  have  had  Jim  with  me,  how  easy  it 
would  have  been  to  follow  them  to  their  camp  that  night, 
kill  and  scalp  them  and  capture  their  horses. 

In  those  days  an  independent  scout  was  entitled  to 
all  the  stock  captured  of  the  enemy  by  him. 

I watched  the  Indians  until  they  got  to  the  emi- 
grant trail,  where  they  stopped  and  held  a council,  ap- 
parently in  doubt  as  to  which  way  they  should  go.  After 
parleying  for  some  five  minutes  they  struck  out  on  the 
trail.  I watched  them  for  about  two  miles,  then  they 
passed  over  a low  range  of  hills  and  were  out  of  sight. 

I now  mounted  Mexico  and  rode  as  fast  as  I could, 
not  directly  after  them,  but  as  near  as  I could  to  keep 
out  of  their  sight;  and  at  the  same  time  I felt  confident 
that  should  they  discover  me,  that  there  was  not  an  In- 
dian pony  in  that  whole  country  that  could  catch  Mexico, 
either  in  a short  or  long  distance. 

After  riding  some  five  miles  or  so,  I dismounted  and 
tied  my  horse  to  a sagebrush,  and  climbed  to  the  top  of 
the  highest  hill  between  me  and  where  I supposed  them 
to  be.  I discovered  them  about  a mile  away,  and  tjiey 
were  just  leaving  the  trail,  riding  up  a ravine  that  led  to 
the  north.  They  dismounted  and  put  their  ponies  out  to 
grass.  There  also  appeared  to  be  a little  meadow  where 
they  stopped,  and  I concluded  there  must  be  water  there, 


DEVISING  PLANS 


150 

too.  I took  in  the  situation  at  a glance  and  could  see 
that  I would  have  to  ride  a long  distance  to  get  near 
them.  Just  immediately  beyond  them  was  a little  hill 
that  sloped  off  down  to  the  meadow  on  which  they  were 
camped,  but  in  any  other  direction  a person  could  not 
ride  without  being  discovered. 

I went  back  to  my  horse,  mounted  and  took  a circuit 
of  about  ten  miles,  having  to  travel  that  distance  in  order 
to  keep  out  of  their  sight.  Coming  in  from  the  north,  I 
rode  almost  to  the  top  of  the  hill;  here  I dismounted, 
tied  my  horse,  crawled  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  on  look- 
ing down  could  see  them  almost  under  me,  the  hill  was 
so  small  and  steep.  They  were  busily  engaged  in  skin- 
ning a jack-rabbit,  and  about  that  time  I felt  as  though 
I could  eat  a hind  quarter  of  it  myself  if  it  had  been 
cooked;  for  I had  been  too  busily  engaged  that  day  to 
stop  and  eat  a lunch. 

Here  I lay  in  the  sagebrush  trying  to  devise  some 
plan  by  which  I could  do  away  with  them  and  capture 
their  horses. 

It  was  now  about  four  o’clock  in  the  afternoon,  and 
this  being  about  twenty  miles  from  headquarters,  I would 
not  have  time  to  ride  there  and  return  with  soldiers  be- 
fore they  wold  break  camp  in  the  morning. 

For  me  to  attack  them  alone  looked  like  a big  under- 
taking. 

There  being  a little  grass  for  their  horses,  I now  con- 
cluded they  would  remain  until  morning.  So  I crept 
back  to  where  my  horse  was  tied,  took  out  my  lunch  and 
sat  down  and  ate  it,  at  the  same  time  debating  in  my 
mind  the  best  course  to  pursue. 


f 


FOR  ATTACK. 


151 


I remembered  what  Col.  Elliott  had  told  Jim,  that  he 
did  not  have  a scout  that  dared  go  fifteen  miles  from 

camp,  and  now 
if  I should  re- 
turn to  camp 
and  report 
what  I had 
seen,  he  would 
start  soldiers 
out,  and  by  the 
time  they 
could  reach 
the  ground  the 
Indians  would 
be  gone,  and 
there  would  be 
nothingaccom- 
plished,  conse- 
quently  I 
would,  no 

doubt,  be  classed  with  the  balance  of  the  scouts  in  the 
opinion  of  the  Colonel.  While  on  the  other  hand, 
should  I be  successful  in  laying  a plan  by  which  I could 
do  away  with  the  Indians  and  take  their  scalps  to  head- 
quarters as  evidence  of  my  work,  it  would  give  me  a 
reputation  as  a scout. 

I was  confident  they  had  not  seen  me  that  day,  and 
knowing,  too,  the  Pah-Utes  had  not  been  disturbed  by 
Col.  Elliott’s  scouts,  they  would  no  doubt  lie  down  when 
night  came,  and  I might  steal  a march  on  them  and 
amid  their  slumbers  accomplish  the  desired  deed. 


I sat  down  and  ate  my  lunch. 


152 


CREEPING  UPON  THEM. 


Having  been  brought  up  by  one  of  the  bravest  fron- 
tiersmen that  traversed  the  plains  at  that  time,  and  who 
always  taught  me  to  respect  a brave  man  and  hate  a cow- 
ard, I made  up  my  mind  to  make  the  attack  alone,  pro- 
vided the  Indians  did  not  put  out  guards  that  night. 

After  I had  finished  my  lunch  I examined  both  my 
single-shot  pistols — I still  having  the  one  presented  to 
me  by  my  old  friend  joe  Favor,  three  years  before  at 
Bent’s  Fort,  also  the  knife,  which  the  reader  will  remem^ 
ber  weighed  two  and  one-fourth  pounds — and  creeping 
back  to  the  top  of  the  hill  I watched  them  cook  and  eat 
the  jack-rabbit.  As  it  grew  dark  I drew  nearer,  and 
when  it  was  about  as  dark  as  it  was  likely  to  be  that 
night,  I crept  up  to  within  a few  yards  of  them.  They 
had  a little  fire  made  of  sagebrush  and  did  not  lie  down 
until  very  late. 

I was  so  near  that  I could  hear  them  talking,  but  I 
could  not  understand  their  language,  as  I had  never  been 
among  them,  but  I was  confident  they  were  Pah-Utes, 
because  I was  in  their  country. 

After  they  had  smoked  and  talked  matters  over,  which 
I supposed  was  in  regard  to  the  next  day’s  scouting, 
they  commenced  to  make  preparations  to  sleep.  In  the 
crowd,  apparently,  were  three  middle-aged  warriors  and 
two  young  ones,  not  yet  grown.  The  three  older  ones 
laid  down  together,  while  the  two  young  ones  made  their 
beds  about  fifteen  feet  away  from  the  other  three. 

After  they  had  become  quiet  I commenced  crawling 
closer,  as  there  was  some  fire  yet  and  I wanted  to  get 
their  exact  location  before  I made  the  attack. 

I felt  confident  that  I could  kill  one  of  them  the  first 


WERE  SOUND  ASLEEP. 


153 


blow  with  my  knife,  and  then  I could  kill  the  other  two 
with  my  pistols.  But  this  would  still  leave  two  to  one 
and  I with  nothing  but  a knife;  however,  after  going  this 
far  I was  determined  to  make  the  attack  at  all  hazards. 

When  I had  crawled  up  within  a few  feet  of  their  bed, 
one  turned  over  and  muttered  something  in  his  own 
tongue,  which  I could  not  understand.  I made  sure  I was 
not  detected,  and  after  lying  still  for  some  time  I con- 
cluded they  were  all  asleep,  and  I soon  made  up  my  mind 
that  I had  better  make  the  attack  at  once  and  have  the 
matter  settled  one  way  or  the  other.  After  taking  in  the 
entire  situation  I decided  to  make  the  attack  with  my 
knife.  I took  the  pistol  from  my  right  holster  in  my  left 
hand,  thereby  giving  me  a better  chance  after  emptying 
the  one  pistol  to  easily  grasp  the  other  one  with  my 
left  hand. 

I knew  that  if  I could  get  a fair  lick  at  one  of  them 
with  my  big  knife,  which  I always  kept  as  sharp  as  a 
razor,  that  he  would  make  little,  if  any,  noise.  My  plan 
of  attack  being  completed,  I crawled  up  near  their  heads, 
and  all  appeared  to  be  sound  asleep. 

I decided  to  take  the  one  on  my  right  first,  so  that  in 
case  the  other  two  should  attempt  to  arise  I would  be  in 
a position  to  shoot  the  one  on  my  left  and  at  the  same 
time  cut  the  other  one  down  with  my  heavy  knife.  But 
it  was  my  intention  to  kill  all  three  of  them  with  my 
knife,  if  possible,  in  order  to  save  both  pistols  for  the 
two  young  ones,  as  I expected  a hard  fight  with  them, 
for  I felt  sure  they  would  be  on  to  me  by  the  time  I got 
through  with  the  other  three,  at  the  very  best  I could  do. 

I now  raised  upon  to  my  feet  and  aimed  to  strike  the 


iS4 


THE  ATTACK. 


one  on  my  right  about  the  middle  of  the  neck.  I came 
down  with  all  my  might  and  killed  him  almost  instantly. 
I served  the  second  one  the  same  way,  but  by  this  time 
the  third  one  had  raised  to  a sitting  position,  and  I struck 
him  in  the  shoulder  and  had  to  make  a second  lick  to  kill 
him.  By  this  time  the  other  two  had  been  aroused,  and, 
as  near  as  I could  tell  in  the  darkness,  one  of  them  was 
crawling  in  the  opposite  direction  on  his  hands  and  knees, 
while  the  other  one  was  coming  at  me  on  all  fours.  1 
shot  him  with  the  pistol  that  I held  in  my  left  hand,  and 
I then  thought  I was  almost  safe.  Just  at  that  moment 
the  other  young  buck  was  on  his  feet,  with  bow  in  hand 
but  no  arrows.  He  dealt  me  a blow  on  the  side  of  the 
head,  which  staggered  me  but  did  not  knock  me  down, 
and  before  I had  time  to  recover,  he  dealt  me  a second 
blow,  but  it  did  not  stagger  me  so  much  as  the  first,  but 
it  brought  the  blood  quite  freely  from  my  nose,  at  the 
same  time  I made  a side  stroke  at  him,  but  struck  too 
low.  I then  drew  my  other  pistol  from  the  holster  and 
fired,  shooting  him  through  the  chest,  and  though  he  fell 
mortally  wounded,  he  again  raised  to  his  feet  and  dealt 
me  another  blow,  which  was  a great  surprise  to  me,  but 
just  one  stroke  of  my  big  knife  severed  his  jugular  and  he 
yielded  up  the  ghost. 

Now  my  task  was  done.  At  the  risk  of  my  life  I had 
accomplished  the  desired  end,  and  my  reputation  as  a 
scout  would  be  established. 

I knew  the  other  scouts  were  having  some  sport  at  my 
expense  while  I was  away,  for  I had  overheard  two  of 
them  in  a conversation  that  morning  make  some  remarks 
ibout  Col.  Elliott’s  tenderfoot  scout. 


AT  HEADQUARTERS. 


1 55 


I had  said  nothing  to  them,  but  this  made  me  all  the 
more  determined  in  the  undertaking,  and  now  I had 
turned  the  joke  on  them,  and,  as  the  old  saying  goes, 
“he  who  laughs  last  laughs  best.” 

I could  see  by  the  light  in  the  east  that  the  moon 
would  be  up  in  a short  time,  so  I went  and  got  my  sad- 
dle-horse from  where  I had  tied  him,  and  who,  by  this 
time  was  very  thirsty  and  hungry,  as  he  had  had  nothing 
to  eat  and  no  water  since  morning.  I watered  him,  then 
picketed  him  out  for  about  two  hours  on  the  little 
meadow,  by  which  time  the  moon  had  risen. 

I then  scalped  the  five  Indians  and  tied  their  scalps  to 
my  belt.  They  would  be  good  evidence  of  my  day’s  work 
when  I should  meet  the  Colonel  at  his  quarters.  This 
being  done,  I tied  the  five  Indian  horses  together  and 
started  for  headquarters,  arriving  there  about  noon  the 
next  day. 

Just  as  I had  put  the  horses  in  the  corral  and  before  I 
had  time  to  dismount,  Col.  Elliott’s  orderly  came  on  the 
dead  run,  saying:  “Col.  Elliott  wishes  to  see  you  at  his 

quarters  at  once.  ” 

I turned  about  and  rode  over  to  the  Colonel’s  tent, 
and  when  I had  saluted  him,  he  said:  “Sir,  whose 

horses  are  those  you  just  turned  into  that  corral?” 

I said:  “Sir,  those  are  my  horses,  as  I understand 

that  any  stock  captured  from  the  Indians  by  an  inde- 
pendent scout,  he  is  entitled  to.” 

“Mr.  Drannan,  do  you  tell  me  that  you  captured 
those  horses  from  an  Indian?” 

I said:  “Col.  Elliott,  yes,  sir;  and  here  is  some- 


i56 


SCALPS  FOR  DINNER. 


thing  more  I captured  with  them.”  At  that  I threw 
down  the  five  scalps  at  his  feet. 

He  looked  amazed  as  he  gazed  at  the  scalps,  but  said 
nothing  for  a*  few  moments. 

About  this  time  the  orderly  announced  Jim  Beckwith 
at  the  door.  The  Colonel  said  let  him  come  in,  and  just 
as  he  entered  the  door,  Col.  Elliott  said: 

‘‘Beckwith,  where  do  you  suppose  this  scout  got 
those  scalps?” 

Jim  picked  up  the  scalps,  examined  them  thoroughly, 
and  said:  ‘Til  bet  my  black  horse  that  he  took  them 

from  the  heads  of  five  Pah-Ute  Indians.” 

The  Colonel  smiled  and  said:  “Drannan,  if  you  will 

tell  us  all  about  the  whole  affair,  I will  treat.” 

I related  the  adventure  in  brief.  Dinner  being  ready, 
the  Colonel  set  out  the  whiskey  and  cigars  and  told  me 
to  call  on  him  that  afternoon,  as  he  wished  to  have  a 
private  conversation  with  me. 

I picked  up  the  five  scalps  and  started  to  dinner,  and 
as  I passed  by  the  kitchen  I threw  them  under  the  negro 
cook’s  feet  and  told  him  to  cook  them  for  dinner  for  my 
friend  and  me— referring  to  Jim  Beckwith.  When  he 
saw  the  scalps  he  exclaimed:  “Laws  a massa,  boss! 

whar  you  git  dem  skelps?  Marse  Meyers  said  dey  wasn’t 
an  Injun  in  fifty  miles  o’  hyar.” 

While  we  were  eating  dinner,  Jim  said  to  me: 
“Don’t  you  know  them  fellers  didn’t  think  you’d  ever 
come  back?” 

I asked  him  what  fellows,  and  he  said:  “Why,  those 
scouts.  One  of  them  told  me  you  was  the  d — est  fool  hq 


REPUTATION  MADE. 


157 


ever  saw  in  his  life,  to  go  out  scouting  alone  in  a strange 
country,  and  that  the  Pah-Utes  would  get  you,  sure.” 

I said  I did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  ask  those 
scouts  anything 
about  Indians  or 
anything  else, 
for  I didn’t  think 
they  had  been 
far  enough  from 
camp  to  learn 
anything  them- 
selves. 

That  after- 
noon when  I was 
announced  at 
the  Colonel’s 
tent,  I was  met 
in  a somewhat 
different  manner 
by  him  to  what 
I had  been  that 
noon,  for  he 
raised  the  front 
of  the  tent  and  '‘Laws  a massa,  boss!  whar  you  git  dem  skelps?” 

said : “Come 

right  in  Drannan,  why  do  you  hesitate?” 

After  having  asocial  chat  with  him  and  rehearsing  to 
some  extent  the  fight  which  took  place  the  night  before 
between  myself  and  the  five  Pah-Utes,  he  proposed  to 
make  me  chief  of  his  scouts.  He  said:  ‘‘Now,  Drannan, 
I will  tell  you  what  I wished  to  see  you  about.  I have 


i5« 


CHIEF  OF  SCOUTS. 


five  scouts  besides  you,  and  I am  going  to  make  you 
chief  of  all  my  scouts,  and  you  can  handle  them  to  suit 
yourself.” 

I told  the  Colonel  that  I did  not  desire  any  promotion 
whatever,  for  in  the  first  place  I would  not  be  doing  my- 
self justice,  and  that  it  would  not  be  doing  justice  to  the 
other  scouts,  and  I thought  it  would  be  of  more  benefit 
to  both  him  and  his  other  scouts,  to  go  alone,  as  I had 
started  out. 

He  asked  me  why  I would  prefer  going  alone.  My 
reply  was  that  a person  in  that  business  could  not  be  too 
cautious,  and  I did  not  know  what  kind  of  men  he  had, 
and  just  one  careless  move  would  spoil  the  plans  of  the 
best  scout  in  the  world. 

The  Colonel  admitted  that  I was  right,  but  insisted 
on  selecting  one  man  from  his  five  scouts  to  assist  me, 
saying:  “If  he  don’t  suit  you,  after  trying  him  two  or 

three  days,  report  to  me,  and  you  may  select  any  one 
from  my  scouts  that  you  like.”  And  to  this  I consented. 
I told  him  that  I would  be  ready  to  start  out  the  follow- 
ing morning,  and  if  he  had  any  orders  to  give  me  to  give 
them  now,  as  I would  start  very  early.  He  said  that  he 
had  no  orders  to  give,  but  that  he  had  selected  Charlie 
Meyers  to  accompany  me;  and  he  proved  to  be  a good 
man  and  a good  scout. 


— :o: — 


A DRY  CAMP. 


1 59 


CHAPTER  XI. 


A LIVELY  BATTLE  WITH  PAH-UTES. PlNNED  TO  SADDLE 

WITH  AN  ARROW. SOME  VERY  GOOD  INDIANS. A 

STUTTERING  CAPTAIN. BECKWITH  OPENS  HIS  PASS. 


The  next  morning  I ordered  three  days’  rations  for 
two  men,  and  Charlie  Meyers  desired  to  know  if  I was 
going  to  Salt  Lake  City  or  New  York.  I told  him  I was 
going  out  hunting,  and  if  I struck  fresh  signs  of  game  I 
proposed  tracking  it  to  wherever  it  went. 

That  day  we  took  the  divide  between  Carson  and 
Humboldt,  south  of  the  emigrant  trail,  making  a ride  of 
forty  miles  that  day,  and  then  a dry  camp — a camp  with- 
out water.  The  following  morning  we  rode  about  five 
miles,  and  came  on  to  a big  Indian  trail  that  had  been 
made  the  evening  before.  We  pushed  on  as  fast  as  we 
could,  all  the  time  keeping  a sharp  lookout,  for  we  were 
now  in  the  heart  of  the  Pah-Ute  country,  and  could  not 
be  too  careful.  About  half  past  three  o’clock  we  came 
to  where  the  Indians  had  camped  the  night  before,  on  a 
tributary  of  the  Humboldt.  At  this  camp  three  antelope 
had  been  devoured,  so  we  knew  that  there  had  been  a 
large  band  of  the  redskins  at  that  feast.  It  was  also 
evident  that  they  were  not  very  far  ahead  of  us,  as  their 
fires  had  not  entirely  died  out. 

Continuing  the  pursuit  we  were  now  getting  close  to 
the  emigrant  trail,  and  it  was  plain  that  the  Indians  had 


SEA  OF  SAGEBRUSH. 


160 


headed  west,  which  convinced  me  that  they  were  looking 
foremigrants,  and  if  so  they  would  not  go  far  before  they 
would  either  go  into  camp  or  leave  the  trail.  It  proved 
that  after  following  the  emigrant  train  a short  distance 
they  had  taken  to  the  hills. 

The  country  was  a sea  of  sagebrush,  and  frequently 
we  would  start  a jack-rabbit  or  antelope  that  we  would 
have  been  pleased  to  roast  for  supper,  but  dared  not 
shoot. 

When  near  the  top  of  a hill  I would  dismount,  and 
leaving  my  horse  with  Meyers,  would  crawl  to  the  sum- 
mit of  the  hill  and  peep  over  in  order  to  discover  whether 
or  not  the  Indians  were  in  sight,  and  then  return,  mount 


I peeped  over  to  get  a sight  of  them. 


my  horse  and  ride  at  a rapid  gait  until  near  the  top  of 
another  hill,  when  the  same  manceuver  would  be  repeated. 


A BAND  OF  PAH-UTES. 


161 


At  last  we  came  to  a sharp  ridge  and  I dismounted. 
I remarked  that  if  we  did  not  find  those  Indians  soon  we 
would  have  to  make  another  dry  camp  that  night.  It 
was  now  nearly  sunset,  and  on  crawling  to  the  top  of  the 
ridge  and  looking  down  on  a nice  little  valley  not  more  than 
a half-mile  distant,  I saw  that  they  had  just  gone  into 
camp  and  had  not  yet  got  all  their  ponies  unpacked. 

I had  a good  chance  to  make  a rough  estimate  of 
their  number,  which  I thought  to  be  about  two  hundred 
warriors. 

I rushed  back  to  Meyers  and  told  him  that  I had  lo- 
cated them,  and  that  one  of  us  would  have  to  ride  back 
to  headquarters  that  night  and  report,  and  asked  him 
whether  he  would  rather  go  or  stay  and  watch  the  In- 
dians. 

“Why  not  both  go,”  he  asked. 

I told  him  that  by  the  time  the  cavalry  could  get  there 
the  Indians  might  be  gone,  and  one  of  us  must  stay  and 
see  where  they  went  to. 

We  were  now,  as  near  as  we  could  tell,  about  thirty- 
five  miles  from  camp,  as  that  afternoon  we  had  been 
traveling  west,  in  the  direction  of  headquarters. 

After  thinking  the  matter  over,  Meyers  concluded 
that  he  would  rather  make  the  ride  than  stay.  I told 
him  to  be  off  at  once,  but  before  starting,  he  said  to  me: 
“Suppose  the  Indians  should  discover  you  while  I am 
away?” 

I replied  that  I would  like  very  much  to  have  them 
discover  me,  when  I knew  the  soldiers  were  in  sight  or 
within  ten  miles,  for  I would  like  to  run  them  into  such 


MADE  GOOD  TIME. 


162 


a trap,  and  that  I was  not  afraid  of  any  horse  in  their 

I i n s t ructed 
Meyers  not  to 
spare  horseflesh 
on  the  way,  and 
to  tell  Col.  El- 
liott to  start  two 
companies  of 
cavalry  as  soon 
as  possible. 

We  shook 
hands  and  he 
started,  and  that 
was  once  that  he 
made  good  time. 
It  being  after 
seven  o’clock 
when  he  started, 
he  reached  camp 
at  fifteen  minutes  after  eleven  that  night. 

When  he  had  gone  I started  in  to  lay  my  plans  for 
the  night. 

It  was  yet  so  light  that  I could  get  a good  view  of  the 
surrounding  country,  and  about  three  miles  from  the  In- 
dians’ camp  I could  see  the  highest  hill  anywhere  around. 
I decided  at  once  that  if  I were  on  that  high  hill  I could 
see  every  move  of  the  Indians,  besides  I could  look  up 
the  Humboldt  and  see  the  soldiers,  or  at  least  the  dust 
raised  by  them,  while  they  were  yet  a long  way  off. 


band  catching  Mexico  in  any  distance. 


RE-ENFORCEMENTS. 


163 

This  peak  lay  north  of  the  trail,  and  the  trail  ran  east 
and  west. 

As  soon  as  it  was  dark  I mounted  my  horse  and  rode 
to  the  peak  and  tied  him  to  a sagebrush  in  a sinkhole, 
that  looked  as  though  it  might  have  been  put  there  on 
purpose,  for  my  horse  was  hidden  from  every  direction. 

I now  went  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  there  being  a 
dense  growth  of  sagebrush,  I was  perfectly  safe  from  dis- 
covery when  daylight  should  come. 

I did  not  have  to  wait  long  after  daylight,  for  just  as 
the  sun  was  creeping  up  over  the  hill  and  shedding  its 
rays  on  the  little  valley  where  the  two  hundred  braves 
had  had  such  a pleasant  night’s  rest,  dreaming,  perhaps, 
of  emigrants,  horses,  provisions  and  other  stuff  that  they 
would  probably  capture  the  following  day,  I looked  up 
the  Humboldt  and  saw  the  two  companies  of  cavalry 
coming. 

The  Indians  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  leave,  and  were 
perhaps  waiting  for  the  five  scouts  to  return  and  report, 
never  thinking  that  they  had  been  killed  and  scalped, 
and  that  the  same  paleface  who  did  the  deed  was  then 
watching  their  every  movement  and  laying  plans  for  their 
destruction. 

I got  my  horse  in  about  a minute,  mounted  and  rode 
across  the  country  to  meet  the  cavalry,  taking  a route  so 
that  I would  not  be  seen  by  the  Indians. 

I met  the  soldiers — who  were  commanded  by  Capt. 
Mills  and  Lieut.  Harding — -about  four  miles  from  the  In- 
dian camp,  and  they  came  to  a halt. 

I told  them  about  the  number  I thought  there  were  in 
the  Indian  band  and  the  lay  of  the  country,  as  nearly  as 


164 


A CONSULTATION. 


■ 

I could.  The  Captain  and  Lieutenant  stepped  to  one 
side  and  held  a council,  and  after  talking  the  matter  over 
they  called  me  and  said  they  had  about  decided  to  attack 
the  enemy  from  both  above  and  below  at  the  same  time, 
and,  as  I had  seen  the  ground,  they  asked  my  opinion  in 
the  matter.  I told  them  I thought  it  an  excellent  plan, 
and  then  Capt.  Mills  turned  to  Lieut.  Harding  and  said: 
‘‘Which  do  you  prefer,  to  make  the  upper  or  lower  at- 
tack? Take  your  choice.” 

He  then  asked  me  if  they  could  get  to  the  head  of  the 
ravine  that  the  Indians  were  camped  on  and  not  be  seen 
by  them.  I told  him  that  I could  show  them  a ravine 
that  led  from  the  emigrant  trail  to  the  head  of  the  valley 
on  which  they  were  camped,  and  marked  out  a plat  of 
the  country  in  the  dust,  showing  the  course  each  company 
would  have  to  take,  telling  them  that  the  company  mak- 
ing the  upper  attack  would  have  to  travel  about  a mile 
farther  than  the  one  making  the  attack  from  below.  He 
then  asked  me  if  the  companies  could  see  each  other  be- 
fore the  Indians  could  see  them.  I informed  him  that 
they  could  not,  but  that  I could  show  him  a hill  where 
he  could  station  a man  and  he  would  be  able  to  see  both 
companies,  but  the  Indians  could  not  see  him,  and  when 
the  company  from  above  should  reach  the  top  of  the  hill 
that  man  could  signal  to  the  other  company  to  charge. 

At  that  time  Lieut.  Harding  turned  to  Capt.  Mills  and 
said:  “If  the  boy  scout  will  go  with  me  I will  make  the 

\ipper  attack,  as  he  has  been  over  the  country  and  knows 
the  lay  of  the  ground.” 

Of  course  I consented,  and  we  marched  to  the  mouth 
Df  the  ravine  just  mentioned. 


TAKEN  UNAWARES. 


165 


I pointed  out  the  hill  referred  to,  and  the  Lieutenant 
placed  a man  on  top  of  it,  and  we  proceeded. 

Just  before  we  reached  the  top  of  the  other  hill, 
Lieut.  Harding  halted  and  formed  his  men  in  line,  plac- 
ing them  about  ten  feet  apart,  saying:  “I  have  only  a 

hundred  soldiers,  but  I want  it  to  appear  that  I have  a 
thousand.  ” 

When  we  first  came  in  sight  of  the  Indians,  some 
were  lying  stretched  out  in  the  sun,  some  were  sitting 
down,  while  a few  were  out  looking  after  their  horses, 
everything  indicating  that  they  had  just  had  their  break- 
fast and  were  lounging  around,  not  having  the  slightest 
idea  of  an  enemy  in  twenty  miles  of  them,  and  we 
took  them  wholly  unawares. 

When  the  Lieutenant  formed  his  men  in  line  be- 
fore raising  the  top  of  the  hill,  he  asked  me  to  take 
charge  of  his  left  wing  and  he  would  take  charge  of 
his  right.  As  soon  as  we  came  in  sight  of  the  Indians, 
he  gave  the  order  to  charge. 

This  was  the  first  thing  of  the  kind  I had  ever  wit- 
nessed, and  when  I cast  my  eyes  down  the  line  of  sol- 
diers I thought  it  the  grandest  sight  I had  ever  seen. 
This  was  also  the  first  engagement  for  either  of  the 
companies. 

In  all  the  scrimmages  I had  been  in  with  the  redskins, 
the  one  that  made  the  most  noise  was  the  best  Indian 
fighter;  so  when  the  Lieutenant  gave  the  order  to  charge, 
I raised  a yell,  as  I thought  this  to  be  one  of  the  essen- 
tial points  of  a charge,  and  wondered  why  the  rest  of  the 
boys  did  not  do  the  same.  However,  after  hearing  a few 
of  my  whoops  they  picked  it  up,  and  each  began  yelling 


IN  CLOSE  QUARTERS. 


1 66 


at  the  top  . of  his  voice,  and  by  this  time  we  were  among 
the  Indians. 

The  two  companies  had  about  the  same  distance  to 
run  after  sounding  the  charge,  but  Lieut.  Harding  was  at 
the  scene  of  conflict  a few  moments  ahead  of  Gaft. 
Mills,  thereby  giving  the  Indians  time  to  scatter.  This 
was  attributed  to  the  fact  that  Capt.  Mills  had  to  charge 
up  grade  while  Lieut.  Harding  had  down  grade,  which 
they  had  not  thought  of  before  making  the  arrangement, 
and  the  ground  being  mostly  sand  made  a great  differ- 
ence in  the  speed  ot  the  horses. 

Meyers  and  I made  a rush  for  the  Indians’  horses,  but 
the  soldiers  all  stuck  together,  and  seeing  that  a number 
of  Indians  were  at  their  horses  already  and  mounted,  we 
abandoned  the  idea  at  once.  Had  one  platoon  made  a 
dash  for  the  horses  and  stampeded  them,  we  would  no 
doubt  have  got  more  Indians. 

After  emptying  both  of  my  single-shot  pistols  I drew 
my  knife,  and  just  at  that  moment  an  Indian  shot  Mey- 
ers through  the  arm  with  an  arrow  and  he  sang  out  to 
me  that  he  was  wounded.  Another  Indian  then  made  a 
dash  at  Meyers  with  his  bow  and  arrow  in  Jiand,  so  I 
charged  after  him  and  made  a slash  at  him  with  my 
knife,  but  he  saw  me  in  time  to  slide  off  on  the  opposite 
side  of  his  horse.  I could  not  stop  the  blow  so  I struck 
his  horse  in  the  back  and  brought  him  to  the  ground, 
and  the  Indian  ran  for  dear  life. 


About  this  time  a soldier  came  riding  along,  and  I 
knew  from  his  actions  that  his  pistol  was  empty  (the  sol- 
diers had  no  firearms  in  this  engagement  except  pistols). 


v*; 


Page  167 


I made  a strike  at  him  with  my  knife. 


PINNED  TO  THE  SADDLE. 


167 


and  I asked  him  why  he  did  not  draw  his  sabre  and  cut 
them  down.  He  said  he  had  no  orders  to  do  so. 

To  that  I did  not  reply,  but  I thought  this  a queer 
way  of  fighting  Indians,  when  a soldier  had  to  stop  in 
the  midst  of  a battle,  fold  his  arms  and  stand  there  to  be 
shot  down  while  waiting  orders  to  draw  his  sabre.  A 
moment  later  they  received  orders  to  use  their  sabres, 
and  they  went  to  hewing  the  Indians  down. 

I saw  an  Indian  with  two  or  three  feathers  in  his 
hair,  and  I took  him  to  be  the  war  chief.  He  was  com- 
ing direct  for  me  with  bow  and  arrow  in  hand,  and  I 
made  a desperate  rush  for  him  and  made  a strike  at  him 
with  my  knife,  but  he  threw  up  his  arm  and  knocked  off 
my  lick,  at  the  same  time  a measly  redskin  shot  me 
through  the  calf  of  my  leg,  pinning  me  to  the  mochila  of 
my  saddle. 

The  mochila  is  a large  covering  for  a saddle  made  of 
very  heavy  leather  and  comes  low  on  the  horse’s  side, 
thereby  affording  great  protection  to  horses  in  cases  like 
this.  This  shield  is  of  Spanish  origin,  but  they  were  used 
by  all  mountaineers  as  well  as  Mexicans. 

I was  leaning  over  when  the  arrow  struck  me  and 
pinned  me  to  the  saddle,  so  that  I could  not  straighten 
up,  for  I was  almost  on  the  side  of  the  horse  when  I re- 
ceived the  arrow. 

Capt.  Mills,  seeing  the  predicament  I was  in,  came 
to  my  rescue  and  cut  the  war  chief  down  with  his  sabre, 
just  in  time  to  save  me  from  getting  another  arrow. 

The  Captain  pulled  the  arrow  out  of  my  leg,  which 
had  a very  large  spear  made  of  hoop  iron,  and  it  tore  a 
bad  hole  in  my  leg  when  he  pulled  it  out.  By  this  lime 


i68 


THE  BATTLE  OVER. 


the  redskins  were  scattering  in  all  directions,  some  on 
foot  and  some  on  horseback. 

As  soon  as  I was  free  I saw  a band  of  about  fifty 
horses  not  far  away,  and  asked  the  Captain  to  detail 
some  of  his  men  to  assist  me  in  running  them  off.  The 
Captain  dashed  off  to  his  orderly  who  he  told  to  take  a pla- 
toon of  men  and  go  with  the  boy  scout  to  take  charge  of 
those  horses. 

In  this  charge  we  got  fifty-two  horses  and  killed  four 
Indians.  We  drove  the  horses  out  on  the  hill  where  they 
would  be  out  of  the  way  and  where  the  Indians  would 
not  get  them,  and  the  Sergeant  left  his  men  to  guard 
them  until  further  orders. 

As  I rode  back  to  the  scene  of  battle  I looked  up  the 
road  and  saw  four  wagons  coming.  I asked  the  Sergeant 
where  those  wagons  were  going,  and  he  said  they  were 
ambulances,  coming  to  haul  the  wounded  to  headquar- 
ters, saying  they  had  started  at  the  same  time  the  cav- 
alry did  but  could  not  keep  up,  consequently  they  did  nor 
arrive  until  after  the  battle  was  over. 

About  the  time  I returned  to  the  battlefield  the  bugle 
sounded  calling  the  soldiers  in  from  the  chase,  and  on 
looking  over  the  ground,  four  dead  soldiers  and  twenty- 
seven  wounded  were  discovered.  There  were  sixty-three 
dead  Indians  in  sight,  and  more,  no  doubt,  were  scattered 
around  in  the  sagebrush. 

The  battle  being  over  we  had  our  breakfast.  I also 
had  my  horse  put  out  to  grass,  as  he  was  very  hungry, 
not  having  had  anything  to  eat  since  noon  the  day  be- 
fore, and  not  much  then. 

After  breakfast  was  over  the  soldiers  buried  their  four 


A PROMOTION. 


169 

dead  comrades  and  loaded  the  wounded  into  the  ambu- 
lances and  started  for  headquarters,  arriving  there  about 
nine  o’clock  that  night.  Charlie  Meyers  had  a wound  in 
his  arm  that  laid  him  up  all  summer,  and  I was  not  able 
to  ride  for  two  weeks,  although  I had  the  best  of  care. 

From  that  time  on  I was  known  as  the  boy  scout, 
and  the  next  day  after  our  return,  Col.  Elliott  appointed 
me  chief  of  scouts  with  rank  and  pay  of  captain,  which  was 
one  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars  per  month.  He  also 
provided  me  with  private  quarters,  my  tent  being  pitched 
near  his  own,  and  notwithstanding  that  I was  only  a 
mere  boy  the  other  scouts  all  came  to  me  for  orders  and 
counsel,  and  I often  wondered  why  men  who  knew  noth- 
ing of  scouting  nor  the  nature  of  Indians  would  stick 
themselves  up  as  scouts. 

Two  weeks  from  the  time  I got  wounded  the  .Colonel 
asked  me  if  I thought  I was  able  to  ride,  saying  that  the 
news  had  just  come  to  him  that  the  Indians  had  attacked 
a train  of  emigrants,  killed  some  of  them  and  driven  off 
their  stock.  This  depredation  he  said  had  been  com- 
mitted in  the  Goose  Creek  mountain  country  about  one 
hundred  and  twenty  miles  east  of  us.  CoL  Elliott  said 
that  he  was  going  to  send  out  a company  of  soldiers 
there,  and  if  I felt  able  I might  accompany  them,  which 
I did. 

All  being  in  readiness,  I selected  two  scouts  to  assist 
me,  and  we  pulled  out,  taking  with  us  a pack-train  with 
one  month’s  provisions.  » 

We  had  a rough  and  'tedious  trip,  as  not  one  of  the 
entire  crowd  had  been  over  the  country  and  did  not  know 
a single  watering  place,  so  we  had  to  go  it  blind,  hit  or 


170 


PROTECTING 


miss.  I had  not  gone  far  when  I found  that  I had  made 
a sad  mistake,  as  notwithstanding  my  leg  appeared  quite 
well  when  I started  out,  yet,  after  one  or  two  days’  rid- 
ing, it  got  quite  sore  and  pained  me  severely,  and  the 
longer  I rode  the  worse  it  got. 

Five  days’  ride  and  we  were  at  the  place  where  the 
emigrants  were  camped.  Another  small  train  had  pulled 
in  with  them  as  they  were  afraid  to  cross  the  desert  alone. 

That  night  Capt.  Mills  called  the  men  of  the  train 
together  to  ascertain  whether  or  not  they  wished  to  look 
after  their  stock,  but  they  did  not  seem  to  know  them- 
selves what  to  do.  They  were  quite  sure  that  the  In- 
dians had  driven  the  stock  south,  as  they  had  tracked 
them  some  distance  in  that  direction.  Capt.  Mills  asked 
me  what  I thought  of  finding  the  stock,  and  I told  him 
that  if  it  was  driven  south,  of  which  the  emigrants 
seemed  quite  sure,  it  was  more  than  likely  that  the  In- 
dians and  stock  were  several  hundred  miles  away,  and 
that  it  would  be  next  to  impossible  to  get  any  trace  of 
them,  and  in  my  opinion  it  would  be  like  trying  to  find 
a needle  in  a haystack. 

After  considering  the  matter  the  emigrants  concluded 
that  I was  right. 

Those  of  them  who  had  lost  all  their  stock  were  a 
pitiful  sight  indeed,  women  and  children  were  weeping, 
and  particularly  those  who  had  lost  their  husbands  and 
fathers  in  the  fight  with  the  Indians. 

There  were  no  women  and  children  killed,  as  the 
Indians  did  not  attack  the  train,  being  apparently  only 
bent  on  capturing  the  horses  and  cattle.  They  had 


EMIGRANTS. 


*7* 

killed  the  guards  and  also  the  men  that  ran  out  to  pro- 
tect the  stock. 

One  who  has  never  witnessed  a like  affair  can  scarcely 
comprehend  the  situation  of  a widow  left  out  there  with 
three  or  four  children  in  this  desolate  region,  utterly  des- 
titute. It  was  a gloomy  situation,  indeed,  and  a sight 
that  would  cause  the  hardest-hearted  man  to  shed  tears. 

Those  who  had  lost  their  stock  made  some  kind  of 
arrangements  to  ride  with  those  that  had  come  later. 

The  day  before  starting  the  emigrants  rolled  all  their 
wagons  together  that  they  did  not  have  teams  to  haul, 
also  the  harness,  and  in  fact  everything  they  could  not 
haul,  and  burned  them,  so  that  the  Indians  would  not 
derive  any  benefit  from  them. 

I merely  note  a few  of  these  facts  to  give  the  reader 
a faint  idea  of  the  trials,  troubles  and  hardships  that  the 
early  settlers  of  the  '‘wild  West”  had  to  pass  through, 
not  only  in  crossing  the  plains,  but,  as  will  be  shown 
later  in  this  book,  in  many  instances  after  settling  in  dif- 
ferent parts  of  this  western  country. 

The  day  before  starting,  Capt.  Mills  suggested  that  as 
my  wound  was  giving  me  so  much  trouble,  I should  re- 
turn to  headquarters  in  company  with  the  train  of  emi- 
grants, and  asked  how  many  men  I wanted  to  guard 
them  through.  I told  him  that  I would  not  feel  safe 
with  less  than  twenty  men.  The  Captain  thought  that 
twenty  would  not  be  sufficient,  so  he  made  a detail  of 
dwenty-five  men  and  issued  rations  to  last  us  eight  days. 

Capt.  Mills  and  the  men  he  had  reserved  remained 
in  this  section  of  country  to  guard  emigrants  that  might 
be  traveling  westward,  as  the  Indians  were  now  working 


172 


SLOW  TRAVELING. 


in  this  part  of  the  country  since  our  battle  with  them  on 
the  Humboldt. 

Having  completed  all  arrangements  we  pulled  out 
with  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  wagons,  all  told,  in  the 
train,  but  as  some  of  the  oxen  were  very  tender  footed 
we  had  to  travel  very  slowly.  I divided  my  men  into 
squads  of  twelve  each,  and  changed  guards  at  morning, 
noon,  evening  and  midnight. 

I also  started  six  guards  ahead  every  morning,  with 
instructions  to  keep  from  one  to  three  miles  from  the 
train  on  either  side,  according  to  the  lay  of  the  country. 

The  second  day  one  of  the  scouts  returned  from  the 
south  and  reported  having  seen  six  Indians  southwest  of 
the  train;  this  was  about  ten  o’clock  in  the  forenoon.  I 
turned  and  rode  off  with  the  scout,  saying  nothing  to 
anyone  in  the  train.  He  piloted  me  to  where  he  had 
seen  the  Indians,  and  sure  enough  there  were  the 
tracks  of  their  ponies  in  the  sand.  The  scout  returned 
to  the  train  and  I followed  the  trail  of  the  Indians  all 
day,  but  never  got  sight  of  an  Indian.  When  dark 
came  I turned  about  and  rode  to  camp,  arriving  there 
at  twelve  o’clock  that  night. 

The  people  in  the  train  were  very  much  pleased  to 
see  me  return,  for  they  had  felt  much  uneasiness  as 
to  my  safety,  fearing  that  I might  have  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  the  Pah-Utes.  This  ride,  however,  laid  me  up 
for  two  weeks,  and  I had  to  go  the  balance  of  the 
way  in  an  emigrant  wagon. 

The  captain  of  this  train  had  a jaw-breaking  name 
that  I never  heard  before  or  since.  It  was  Sam 
Molujean,  and  I know  he  was  the  most  excitable  man 


AN  EXCITED  CAPTAIN. 


173 


that  I ever  saw.  When  Capt.  Molujean  got  excited 
he  could  not  talk  at  all  for  stuttering,  so  one  day  the 
guards  concluded  to  have  a little  sport  at  the  expense  of 
the  Captain.  We  were  now  nearly  opposite  where  about 
a month  previous  a battle  with  the  Pah-Utes  had  been 
fought,  and  the  advance  guards  were  riding  back  to  the 
train — it  now  being  time  to  corrall  for  dinner.  They 
met  Capt.  Molujean,  who  asked  if  they  had  seen  any  In- 
dians. 

One  of  the  guards  informed  him  that  there  were  sixty- 
odd  up  the  ravine.  This  set  the  Captain  wild.  He 
wheeled  around  and  rode  back  to  where  I was  in  the 
wagon  and  started  in  to  tell  me  what  the  guard  had 
said,  but  he  could  not  utter  a word. 

After  listening  to  him  a minute  or  so  I told  him  if 
he  would  get  some  one  to  tell  what  he  wanted  I would 
answer  his  question.  I suppose  I was  somewhat  im- 
patient, as  I was  suffering  from  my  wound.  At  this 
one  of  the  guards  rode  up  with  a smile  on  his  face, 
and  I asked  him  if  he  could  tell  me  what  Capt. 
Molujean  was  trying  to  say  to  me,  He  related  to  me 
what  they  had  told  him  in  regard  to  the  sixty-odd 
Indians  up  the  ravine,  referring  to  the  Indians  that  had 
been  killed  in  battle  between  the  soldiers  and  Pah-Utes. 

We  had  a good  laugh  at  the  Captain’s  expense, 
after  which  I told  him  the  Indians  the  guard  had  ref- 
erence to  were  all  good  Indians. 

“Oh!  is  that  so?”  he  exclaimed,  and  these  were  the 
first  words  he  had  been  able  to  utter.  “But,”  he  con- 
tinued, “I  did  not  know  there  were  any  good  Indians 
in  this  country;  I thought  all  of  them  were  savage.”  I 


174 


Beckwith’s  invitation. 


told  the  Captain  that  those  Indians  were  dead,  and  that 
all  dead  Indians  were  good  ones.  This  was  a stunner  for 
the  Captain,  and  I do  not  think  that  the  joke  has  ever 
penetrated  his  massive  skull. 

We  did  not  see  any  more  Indians  or  any  sign  of  them 
on  the  trip. 

On  reaching  headquarters  we  found  Jim  Beckwith 
awaiting  our  arrival.  He  had  been  out  with  three  other 
men  whom  he  had  hired  to  help  him  blaze  a road  across 
the  mountains  through  his  new  pass.  He  had  finished 
his  work  on  the  road  and  returned  to  Col.  Elliott’s  camp, 
knowing  that  if  he  could  get  one  train  to  go  his  way  it 
would  be  a great  help  toward  getting  the  tide  of  immigra- 
tion turned  in  that  direction  the  following  season. 

Here  Beckwith  took  charge  of  the  train,  Col.  Elliott 
recommending  him  very  highly,  and  telling  the  emigrants 
that  if  they  would  ‘only  obey  his  orders  he  would  pilot 
them  through  in  safety. 

Before  starting,  Jim  asked  me  to  come  over  and  spend 
the  winter  with  him,  saying  that  he  was  going  to  build  a 
cabin  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountains,  lay  in  a big 
supply  of  provisions,  and  as  after  that  he  was  going  to  do 
nothing,  he  wanted  me  to  help  him. 

I promised  to  go  and  winter  with  him  if  it  was  pos- 
sible for  me  to  do  so,  as  at  this  time  I did  not  know  but 
what  I might  have  to  go  to  San  Francisco  to  have  my  leg 
treated  the  coming  winter. 

From  here  the  emigrants  were  to  pay  Jim  to  pilot 
them  across  the  mountains  to  a little  mining  camp  called 
Hangtown,  which  was  about  one  hundred  and  twenty 
miles  east  of  Sacramento.  They  made  the  trip  without 


Deer  by  Moonlight 


MOR&  EMIGRANTS. 


175 


any  trouble.  I saw  one  of  the  emigrants  the  next  spring 
and  they  spoke  in  very  high  terms  of  Jim  Beckwith. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Col.  Elliott  kills  his  first  deer,  and  secures  a 

FINE  PAIR  OF  HORNS  AS  A PRESENT  FOR  HIS  FATHER.— 

Beckwith’s  tavern. — Society. 


Two  weeks  after  the  incidents  related  in  the  previous 
chapter,  Capt.  Mills  came  in  with  another  train  of  emi- 
grants, not  having  seen  an  Indian  on  the  trip,  and  from 
this  time  on  there  was  no  danger  of  such  trains  going 
from  that  region  through  Beckwith  Pass,  and  as  the  road 
was  now  broken  by  the  other  train,  these  emigrants  could 
cross  the  Sierra  Nevadas  without  a guide. 

About  this  time  four  men  with  pack  animals  came 
along  who  claimed  to  be  from  Salt  Lake.  They  reported 
that  they  had  seen  Indians  one  day  traveling  east  of 
headquarters.  I took  two  men  and  started  out  and  was 
gone  about  a week,  but  did  not  see  an  Indian,  or  a track 
or  sign  of  one,  and  when  we  returned  the  Colonel  con- 
cluded that  he  had  been  misled  by  the  packers. 

Col.  Elliott  now  ordered  me  to  take  fifty  men,  wilh 
two  weeks’  provisions,  and  go  as  far  as  we  could  with 


176 


off  for  San  Francisco. 


that  amount  of  rations,  or  until  we  should  meet  some 
emigrants.  We  were  gone  about  three  weeks,  but  did 
not  see  either  Indians  or  emigrants.  The  fact  is,  that 
it  was  getting  so  late  in  the  fall  that  the  Indians  had  all 
gone  south,  and  the  emigrants  were  not  moving  on  the 
desert  at  that  season. 

On  our  return  the  Colonel  had  everything  ready  and 
we  pulled  out  for  San  Francisco.  We  camped  the  first 
night  at  Steamboat  Springs,  a place  that  has  since  grown 
to  be  a famous  health  resort.  On  the  second  day  we 
passed  over  the  country  where  now  stands  Carson  City, 
the  capital  of  Nevada.  At  that  time,  this  region,  like  all 
of  that  country  then,  was  a wild,  unsettled,  sagebrush 
desert,  or  mountain  wilderness. 

The  morning  we  left  Eagle  Valley  the  Colonel  rode 
in  advance  of  the  column  with  me,  and  I saw  there  was 
something  on  his  mind.  In  a little  while  he  said  he 
would  like  to  kill  a deer  with  big  horns,  so  that  he  could^ 
send  it — the  horns — to  his  father  in  New  York,  who  hacf 
never  seen  a deer,  and  he  added  that  notwithstanding  he 
— the  Colonel — had  been  on  the  Pacific  coast  two  years, 
he  had  never  killed  a deer  in  his  life.  I told  him 
that  I would  fix  it  for  him  to  get  one  the  very  next  day, 
and  he  was  as  pleased  as  a child. 

That  night  we  camped  by  a big  spring  at  the  mouth 
of  a great  canyon,  and  about  the  spring  stood  a number 
of  large  pine  trees.  Many  persons  who  had  passed  that 
way  had  carved  their  names  in  the  bark  of  the  trees,  and 
among  the  names  were  two  that  were  quite  familiar  to 
me.  One  of  these  was  the  name  of  Capt.  Molujean — I 
wondered  how  he  had  done  it  without  stuttering — and 


Col.  Elliott's  first  deer. 


i 77 


the  other  was  the  name  of  James  Beckwith.  On  the 
same  tree  was  written  with  lead  pencil:  '‘Sixty  miles  to 

Beckwith’s  Hotel.” 


On  my  favorite  horse,  Pinto,  I rode  out  with  the 
Colonel  for  a deer  hunt.  While  riding  along  the  canyon 


about  two  miles  from  where  the  command  had  camped, 
I saw  a large  doe  crossing  the  canyon  and  coming  down 
the  hill  toward  us.  I signaled  the  Colonel  to  halt  and 
I shot  the  doe,  breaking  her  neck,  while  sitting  on  my 
horse.  I then  told  the  Colonel  to  secrete  himself  behind 


i;8 


A PROUD  COLONEL. 


a tree  and  he  would  soon  see  the  male  deer,  and  he 
would  stand  a good  show  to  get  a fine  pair  of  horns.  In 
a few  moments  two  deer  came  tracking  the  one  I had 
shot. 

‘‘Be  ready,  now,”  said  I,  “and  when  he  stops  let 
him  have  it.”  So  when  the  deer  were  within  about 
fifty  yards  I gave  a keen  whistle  and  they  stopped,  stock 
still.  The  Colonel  fired  and  brought  the  big  buck  to  the 
ground.  The  other,  which  was  a small  one,  started  to 
run,  but  I sent  a bullet  after  it  that  made  more  venison. 

We  now  had  plenty  of  meat,  and  the  Colonel  was  as 
proud  over  killing  that  deer  as  I was  over  my  first  pair  of 
boots. 

We  stopped  here  until  the  command  came  up,  dressed 
the  venison  and  went  on  our  way  rejoicing. 

Soon  we  were  ascending  the  Sierra  Nevada  Moun- 
tains, and  about  three  o’clock  we  struck  the  snow-line. 

To  one  who  has  never  gone  from  comparative  summer 
in  a few  hours’  ride,  to  the  depths  of  winter  and  a con- 
siderable depth  of  snow,  the  sensation  is  a strange  one. 
Of  course,  I had  often  done  that  before.  But  having 
more  leisure  to  think  of  it  now,  and  having  more  to  do 
with  the  snow,  I thought  of  its  strangeness,  and  I am  re- 
minded of  a little  girl  whom  I have  become  acquainted 
with  long  since  those  days,  and  the  effect  that  the  first 
sight  of  snow  had  upon  her.  She  was  born  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  had  not  seen  any  snow  up  to  the  time  when 
she  was  three  years  old.  Her  parents  were  coming  east 
with  her  on  a railroad  train,  which  runs  over  about  the 
same  ground  that  we  were  on  at  the  time  I was  there 
with  Col.  Elliott.  Awakening  in  the  morning  in  a sleep* 


SHOVELING  SNOW. 


*79 

ing-car  on  top  of  the  Sierras,  the  little  one  looked  out, 
and  seeing  the  vast  fields  of  whiteness,  she  exclaimed: 
“Do  look,  mamma;  the  world  is  covered  with  sugar. ” 

As  we  ascended  the  mountains  the  snow  became  so 
deep  in  a little  while  that  we  were  forced  to  camp.  The 
next  morning  the  herders  were  directed  to  take  the  stock 
ahead  in  order  to  tramp  down  the  snow  to  make  a trail, 
but  in  four  miles  it  became  so  deep  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  proceed  further  in  that  manner,  and  then  the 
Colonel  detailed  fifty  men  to  shovel  snow,  but  having 
only  a few  shovels,  wooden  ones  were  made  that  answered 
the  purpose,  and  while  we  were  shoveling,  the  horses 
were  also  frequently  driven  back  and  forth  over  the  trail, 
and  in  three  days  we  had  a passable  road  for  the  wagons. 

At  the  end  of  the  three  days  we  reached  the  edge  of 
the  snow  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  mountains,  and 
there  being  a beautiful  camping  ground  and  the  first  night 
out  of  the  snow  for  some  time,  the  luxury  of  it  was  fully 
appreciated  by  all  hands. 

On  a pine  tree  here  I again  saw  signs  of  my  old  friend, 
Jim  Beckwith,  for  there  was  written:  “Twenty  miles  to 
Beckwith’s  Hotel.”  So  you  see  that  even  in  that  far- 
away country,  and  at  that  early  day,  even  the  pioneer 
had  learned  the  uses  of  out-doo  ' advertising. 

The  next  morning  we  took  an  early  start  and  traveled 
hard  all  day,  anticipating  with  much  pleasure  that  at 
night  we  should  enjoy  all  the  luxuries  of  the  season  at 
Beckwith’s  Hotel.  And  we  did,  to  the  extent  that  this 
region  and  the  markets  of  San  Francisco  could  afford. 

We  reached  the  place  about  sunset  that  evening,  and 
the  command  went  into  camp  and  I went  to  Jim’s  new 


l8o 


A PRESENTATION. 


log  house.  He  had  built  one  and  had  started  in  to  build 
the  second,  having  two  carpenters  at  work  finishing 
them  up. 

After  supper  Col.  Elliott  and  all  his  officers,  both 
commissioned  and  non-commissioned,  came  to  Jim’s 
house,  where,  after  a social  chat  and  having  cracked  a 
few  jokes,  which  latter  was  really  a part  of  the  business 
connected  with  this  life,  Col.  Elliott  pulled  off  his  over- 
coat, laid  it  and  his  hat  on  a bed,  stepped  up  near  the 
table  and  said: 

“Mr.  Beckwith,  I wish  to  say  a few  words  to  your 
friend,  Mr.  Drannan,  in  behalf  of  myself  and  the  other 
officers  present.’1  Jim  told  him  to  go  ahead,  which  he 
did,  telling  how  faithful  I had  been  and  what  valuable 
services  I had  rendered  both  to  him  and  the  emigrants. 
He  went  on  and  made  quite  a lengthy  speech,  in  conclu- 
sion of  which  he  said:  “Mr.  Drannan,  as  a slight  token 

of  our  appreciation  of  your  services  while  with  us,  I now 
present  to  you  this  pair  of  glasses,”  whereupon  he  handed 
me  a fine  pair  of  field  glasses  which  he  took  from  his 
overcoat  pocket,  “and  here  are  two  navy  revolvers  that 
Capt.  Mills  and  Lieut.  Harding  wish  to  present  to  you  as 
a token  of  their  friendship.” 

This  took  me  wholly  by  surprise,  as  I had  not  ex- 
pected anything  of  the  kind,  and  I was  so  dumbfounded 
that  all  I could  say  was  to  thank  them  for  the  presents, 
the  thought  never  having  entered  my  head  that  my  ser- 
vices had  been  so  highly  appreciated  by  the  officers  of 
those  four  companies. 

Col.  Elliott  said  that  in  case  he  should  go  out  on  the 
[bins  the  following  summer,  which  in  all  probability  he 


TIPPING  GLASSES. 


1 8 1 

would,  he  wanted  me  to  go  with  him  without  fail.  I 
promised  him  that  I would,  provided  I was  in  the  coun- 
try when  he  started  out. 

After  Col.  Elliott  had  closed  his  remarks  and  taken 
his  seat,  Jim  Beckwith  arose  and  made  quite  a speech  in 
his  plain,  rude  language,  addressing  his  remarks  princi- 
pally to  Col.  Elliott,  in  which  he  said:  4 ‘Colonel,  I 

would  not  have  recommended  this  boy  to  you  so  highly 
if  I had  not  been  with  him  long  enough  to  know  that 
when  he  starts  in  to  do  a thing  he  goes  at  it  for  all  there 
is  in  him,  and,  as  I told  you,  he  has  been  with  Kit  Car- 
son  ever  since  he  was  a boy,  and  I knowed  that  if  he  didn’t 
have  the  everlasting  grit  in  him,  Kit  Carson  wouldn’t 
have  kept  him  around  so  long.  I am  very  glad  indeed, 
Colonel,  that  he  has  filled  the  bill,  and  now  the  Injun 
fightin’  is  all  over  for  this  season  and  ’twill  be  some  time 
before  we  all  meet  again,  if  we  ever  do.  I have  nothing 
of  value  to  present  to  you,  but  such  as  I have  is  as  free 
as  the  water  in  the  brook.” 

At  this  he  produced  a gallon  jug  of  whiskey,  set  it  on 
the  table,  gave  us  some  glasses  and  told  us  all  to  help 
ourselves.  This  wound  up  the  evening’s  exercises,  and 
after  each  had  tipped  the  glass  about  three  times  we 
broke  up  the  lodge  and  each  went  on  his  way  rejoicing. 

Before  the  Colonel  left  that  night  he  told  me  that  we 
would  divide  the  captured  horses  the  next  morning.  I 
told  him  that  all  I wanted  was  the  five  horses  that  I had 
captured  from  the  five  Indian  scouts  when  I first  started 
in  to  scout  for  him,  but  the  next  morning  he  called  me 
put  when  the  horses  were  brought  in  and  made  the  di- 


182 


A LIVELY  TOWN. 


vision.  There  were  sixty-three  of  them,  and  he  left  fif- 
teen to  my  share. 

I stayed  at  Jim  Beckwith’s  for  about  two  weeks,  and 
his  carpenters  having  the  houses  completed,  we  saddled 
up  four  horses  and  took  them  to  Hangtown.  It  was 
a distance  of  twenty  miles  to  Hangtown,  which  at  that 
time  was  one  of  the  loveliest  mining  towns  in  California. 
There  were  between  four  and  five  thousand  inhabitants 
in  and  around  the  place.  During  the  day  it  appeared 
dead,  as  there  was  scarcely  a person  to  be  seen  on  the 
streets;  but  at  night  it  would  be  full  of  miners,  who, 
it  seemed,  came  to  town  for  no  other  purpose  than  to 
spend  the  money  they  had  earned  during  the  day. 

This  winter  passed  off,  apparently,  very  slowly,  being 
the  most  lonesome  winter  I had  put  in  since  I struck 
the  mountains. 

Along  about  the  middle  of  February  our  groceries 
were  running  short  and  Jim  went  to  Hangtown  for 
supplies.  On  his  return  he  brought  me  a letter  from 
Col.  Elliott,  asking  me  to  come  to  San  Francisco  at 
once. 

I asked  him  what  he  thought  of  it,  and  he  told  me 
by  all  means  to  go. 

I told  him  I would  have  to  stop  in  San  Francisco 
and  buy  me  a suit  of  clothes  before  going  out  to  the 
fort  to  see  Col.  Elliott.  He  thought  this  was  useless, 
saying:  “Your  buckskin  suit  that  Kit  Carson  gave  you 

is  just  what  you  want  for  a trip  like  that.” 

I thought  that  if  I wore  such  a suit  in  civilization 
the  people  would  make  light  of  me,  and  I hated  th$ 
idea  of  being  the  laughing  stock  for  other  people^ 


Beckwith’s  hotel. 


183 


Jim  said:  “It  is  Coi.  Elliott  you  are  going  to  see, 

and  he  would  rather  have  you  come  that  way  than  any 
other.  ” 

I took  my  suit  down  and 
looked  at  it,  and  it  was  a 
fine  one  of  the  kind.  I had 
never  worn  it  since  Uncle 
Kit’s  wedding,  so  it  was 


practically  new.  1 decided  to  wear 
it,  and  the  next  morning  I started 
for  San  Francisco,  Jim  accompanying  me  to  Hangtown 
to  take  the  horses  back  to  his  ranche. 


184 


A ROUGH  RIDE, 


At  Hangtown  I took  the  stage  for  Sacramento,  which, 
by  the  way,  was  the  first  time  I had  ever  ridden  in  a 
stage-coach. 

We  started  from  Hangtown  at  five  o’clock  in  the 
morning  and  at  twelve  o’clock  that  night  the  driver  drew 
rein  at  the  American  Exchange  Hotel  in  Sacramento. 
The  coach  was  loaded  down  to  its  utmost  capacity,  there 
being  nine  passengers  aboard.  The  roads  were  very 
rough  at  this  season  of  the  year — being  the  latter  part  of 
February — and  I would  rather  have  ridden  on  the  hurri- 
cane deck  of  the  worst  bucking  mustang  in  California 
than  in  that  coach. 

This  hotel  was  kept  at  that  time  by  a man  named 
Lamb, 

That  night  when  the  proprietor  assigned  the  passen- 
gers to  their  respective  rooms  he  asked  us  if  we  wished 
to  take  the  boat  for  San  Francisco  the  next  morning.  I 
told  him  that  I did,  whereupon  he  asked  me  if  I wanted 
my  breakfast.  I told  him  that  I did,  saying  that  I didn’t 
want  to  go  from  there  to  San  Francisco  without  anything 
to  eat.  This  caused  quite  a laugh  among  the  bystanders; 
but  I did  not  see  the  point,  for  at  that  time  I did  not 
know  that  one  could  get  a meal  on  a steamboat,  for  I 
had  never  been  near  one. 

Just  as  I stepped  on  the  boat  next  morning,  a man 
rushed  up  to  me  with  a ‘‘Hello  there!  how  are  you?”  as 
he  grasped  me  by  the  hand.  Seeing  that  I did  not  recog- 
nize him,  he  said:  “I  don’t  believe  you  know  me.”  I 

told  him  that  he  had  one  the  best  of  me.  He  said: 
“You  are  the  boy  scout  that  was  with  Capt.  Mills  last 
summer,  and  you  rode  in  my  wagon.”  Then  I recog- 


AT  THE  FORT. 


x85 


nized  him.  His  name  was  Healey,  and  at  the  time  was 
running  a restaurant  in  San  Francisco,  and  he  insisted  on 
my  going  to  his 
place  when  I got 
to  the  city, 
which  i n v i t a- 
tion  I accepted. 

H i s establish- 
ment was  known 
as  the  Miners’ 

Restaurant. 

Mrs.  Healey 
and  her  little 
daughter,  eleven 
years  old,  knew 
me  as  soon  as  I 
entered  the  door,  and  were  apparently  as  glad  to  see  me 
as  though  I had  been  a relative  of  the  family. 

The  next  morning  when  I offered  to  settle  my  bill 
they  would  not  take  a cent,  but  requested  me  while  in 
the  city  to  make  my  home  with  them. 

That  day  I went  out  to  the  Fort,  which  was  three 
miles  from  the  city,  and  on  arriving  there  the  first  man  I 
met  was  Lieut.  Harding,  who  at  once  conducted  me  to 
Col.  Elliott’s  quarters. 

That  afternoon  we  made  the  rounds  of  the  Fort,  and 
Col.  Elliott,  when  introducing  me,  would  say:  “This  is 

the  ‘boy  scout,’  who  was  out  with  us  last  summer,  and 
whom  you  have  heard  me  speak  of  so  often.” 

I made  my  home  with  Col.  Elliott  and  his  wife  during 
my  stay  at  the  Fort,  which  was  two  weeks. 


1 86 


SOMETHING  NEW. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


Something  worse  than  fighting  Indians. — Dance  at 
Col.  Elliott’s. — Conspicuous  suit  of  buckskin. — 
I manage  to  get  back  to  Beckwith’s. 


That  night  Mrs.  Elliott  had  every  lady  that  belonged 
around  the  Fort  at  her  house,  and  she  took  the  ‘‘boy 
scout”  along  the  line  and  introduced  him  to  every  one  of 
the  ladies.  This  was  something  new  tome,  for  it  was 
the  first  time  in  my  life  that  I had  struck  society,  and  I 
would  have  given  all  of  my  previous  summer’s  wages  to 
have  been  away  from  there.  I did  not  know  how  to  con- 
duct myself,  and  every  time  I made  a blunder — which 
seemed  to  me  every  time  I made  a move — I would  at- 
tempt to  smooth  it  over,  and  always  made  a bad  matter 
worse. 

Next  morning  at  the  breakfast  table  I told  the  Colo- 
nel and  his  wife  that  I was  going  back  into  the  moun- 
tains as  fast  as  I could  get  there.  I knew  I could  track 
Indians,  and  fight  them  if  necessary,  but  I did  not  know 
how  to  entertain  ladies,  especially  when  my  best  clothes 
were  only  Indian-tailored  buckskin. 

Mrs.  Elliott  assured  me  that  she  would  not  have  had 
me  come  there  dressed  differently,  had  it  been  in  her 
power  to  prevent  it.  “Dressed  otherwise  than  you  are,” 
she  said,  “you  would  not  be  the  same  ‘boy  scout’  that 
my  husband  has  told  us  so  much  concerning.” 


I struck  society.  Page  186 


AN  OUTLANDISH  FIGURE. 


187 


Of  course  this  was  encouraging,  and  I concluded  that 
I might  hot  have  been  so  painfully  ridiculous  as  I had 
supposed.  For,  be  it  known,  I had  been  scarcely  able 
to  sleep  the  night  before  for  thinking  of  what  an  outland- 
ish figure  I had  cut  that  night  before  all  those  high-toned 
ladies,  and  of  the  sport  my  presence  among  them  must 
have  created. 

However,  I felt  much  better  after  the  pleasant  way  in 
which  Mrs.  Elliott  declared  she  looked  at  it,  and  with 
renewed  self-complacence  proceeded  to  discuss  with  the 
Colonel  his  plans  for  the  next  summer’s  campaign. 

He  informed  me  that  he  intended  to  go  out  with  four 
companies  of  soldiers,  and  would  locate  a short  distance 
east  of  last  year’s  quarters,  at  a place  where  the  town 
of  Wadsworth  has  since  been  built.  Plenty  of  good 
water  and  an 
abundance  of 
grass  were 
there,  and 
with  two  com- 
p a n i e s he 
would  make 
his  headquar- 
ters there. 
ri  he  other  two 
companies  he 
would  send 
about  one 
hundred  miles 

further  east,  to  the  vicinity  of  Steen’s  Mountain,  and  it 
was  his  wish  that  I should  take  charge  of  the  scouts 
and  operate  between  the  two  camps. 


\\  ? 


The  Colonel  and  I talk  matters  over. 


1 88 


AT  THE  DANCE. 


Notwithstanding  I had  a good  home  with  Col.  Elliott 
and  his  wife  as  long  as  I wished  to  remain,  it  seemed  to 
me  that  this  was  the  longest  and  lonesomest  week  I had 
ever  experienced.  Everything  being  so  different  from 
my  customary  way  of  living,  I could  not  content  myself. 

The  day  before  I was  to  start  back  home  it  was  ar- 
ranged that  I should  return  to  Jim  Beckwith’s  ranche  and 
keep  the  Colonel  posted  by  letter  in  regard  to  the  snow 
in  the  mountains,  and  when  he  would  be  able  to  cross. 
Then  I was  to  join  him  at  Beckwith’s. 

The  following  evening  Mrs.  Elliott  gave  a party, 
which  was  attended  by  all  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of 
the  garrison.  There  was  to  be  a general  good  time,  per- 
haps the  last  party  of  the  season,  as  it  was  approaching 
the  time  for  preparations  for  the  next  campaign  against 
the  Indians. 

When  all  the  guests  had  arrived  and  the  spacious 
house  was  a blaze  of  light  and  happiness — fair  women 
smiling  and  their  musical  voices  fairly  making  a delight- 
ful hub-bub  of  light  conversation,  and  the  gentlemen, 
superb  in  their  gold-trimmed  uniforms,  or  impressive  in 
full  evening  dress — the  manager  of  the  dance  sang  out 
for  all  to  take  partners  for  some  sort  of  a bowing  and 
scraping  drill  that  is  a mystery  to  me  to  this  day.  I had 
seen  the  fandango  in  Taos,  and  elsewhere  in  the  Mexican 
parts  of  the  southwest,  but  this  was  the  first  time  I had 
seen  Americans  dance,  and  it  was  all  appallingly  new  to 
me. 

I sat  in  a corner  like  a homely  girl  at  a kissing-bee, 
and  had  nothing  to  say. 

After  the  crowd  had  danced  about  two  hours,  the 


SWELL  PEOPLE. 


189 

'4oor  manager  sang  out,  “Ladies’  choice!”  or  something 
hat  meant  the  same  thing,  and  to  my  surprise  and  ter- 
or,  Mrs.  Elliott  made  a bee-line  for  me  and  asked  me  to 
assist  her  in  dancing  a quadrille.  I had  no  more  idea  of 
a quadrille  than  I had  of  something  that  was  invented 
yesterday,  and  I begged  her  to  excuse  me,  telling  her 
that  I knew  nothing  whatever  of  dancing.  She  declared, 
however,  that  I had  looked  on  long  enough  to  learn  and 
that  I would  go  through  all  right.  I hung  back  like  a 
balky  horse  at  the  foot  of  a slippery  hill,  but  between 
Mrs.  Elliott  and  the  prompter  I was  almost  dragged  out 
on  the  floor. 

The  reader  may  be  able  to  conceive  a faint  idea  of 
my  situation.  I was  now  twenty- three  years  old,  and 
this  was  the  first  time  I had  been  in  civilization  since  I 
had  left  St.  Louis,  a boy  of  fifteen.  Here  I was,  among 
those  swell  people,  gorgeous  in  “purple  and  fine  linen,” 
so  to  speak;  ladies  in  silks,  ruffles  and  quirlymacues, 
gentlemen  in  broadcloth,  gold  lace  and  importance,  and 
I in  only  buckskin  from  head  to  foot.  I would  have 
freely  given  everything  I possessed  to  have  been  out  of 
that,  but  my  excuses  failed  utterly,  and  finally  I went 
into  it  as  I would  an  Indian  fight,  put  on  a bold  front  and 
worked  for  dear  life. 

I found  it  quite  different  to  what  I had  expected. 
Instead  of  making  light  of  me,  as  I feared  they  would, 
each  lady  in  the  set  tried  to  assist  me  all  she  could. 

When  on  the  floor  it  seemed  to  me  that  every  man, 
woman  and  child  were  looking  at  me,  as  indeed  they 
were,  or  rather  at  my  suit  of  buckskin,  that,  worked  full 
of  beads  and  porcupine  quils,  was  the  most  beautiful  suit 


THE  DOUBLE-SHUFFLE. 


190 

of  its  kind  I have  ever  seen.  But  it  was  so  different  from 
the  dress  of  the  others  that  it  made  me  decidedly  con- 
spicuous. When  on  the  floor  and  straightened  up  I felt 
as  if  I were  about  nine  feet  high,  and  that  my  feet  were 
about  twenty  inches  long  and  weighed  near  fifty  pounds 
each. 

The  prompter  called  out,  ‘ 'Balance  all!”  and  I forgot 
to  dance  until  all  the  others  were  most  through  balanc- 
ing, then  I turned  loose  on  the  double-shuffle,  this  being 
the  only  step  I knew,  and  I hadn’t  practiced  that  very 
much.  About  the  time  I would  get  started  in  on  this 
step  the  prompter  would  call  something  else,  and  thus 
being  caught  between  two  hurries  I would  have  to  run  to 
catch  up  with  the  other  dancers.  However,  with  the 
assistance  of  Mrs.  Elliott,  the  other  good  ladies,  the 
prompter,  and  anybody  else  in  reach,  I managed  to  get 
through,  but  I had  never  gone  into  an  Indian  fight  with 
half  the  dread  that  I went  into  that  dance,  and  never  es- 
caped from  one  with  more  thankfulness. 

The  following  morning,  after  bidding  Col,  Elliott, 
his  wife  and  all  the  other  of  my  new-found  friends  good- 
bye, I started  on  my  return  to  Beckwith’s  ranche,  per- 
fectly willing  to  resign  my  high-life  surroundings  to  go 
back  to  the  open  and  congenial  fields  of  nature  and  an 
indescribable  freedom. 

I found  Beckwith  suffering  severely  from  an  old  arrow 
wound  that  he  had  received  in  a fight  with  the  Utes  near 
Fort  Hall  in  1848. 


r 


PICKING  SCOUTS. 


191 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


Drilling  the  detailed  scouts. — We  get  among  the 
Utes. — Four  scouts  have  not  reported  yet. — 
Another  lively  fight. — Beckwith  makes  a raise. 


It  was  late  spring  when  the  snow  began  to  melt,  but 
it  went  away  very  fast  when  it  once  started.  About  the 
first  of  June  I wrote  to  Col.  Elliott  that  by  the  tenth  of 
the  month  he  could  cross  the  mountains.  He  did  not 
arrive  until  the  20th  of  June,  then  I joined  him  and  we 
started  across  the  mountains. 

By  direction  of  the  Colonel  each  of  the  captains  de- 
tailed four  men  from  their  respective  companies  to  be  my 
assistants,  and  at  my  suggestion  young  men  were  chosen, 
such  as  myself,  who  could  ride  forty-eight  hours,  if  nec- 
essary, without  stopping,  and  I asked  for  men  who  were 
not  afraid  to  go  alone,  not  afraid  to  fight,  and,  above  all, 
men  that  would  never  allow  themselves  to  be  taken 
prisoner. 

The  command  having  been  drawn  up  for  dress  parade, 
the  orderly  sergeants  called  their  rolls,  and  whenever  a 
man’s  name  was  called  whom  the  captains  wished  to  de- 
tail, he  was  directed  to  stand  aside.  Up  to  this  time  the 
men  did  not  know  and  were  wondering  what  was  up. 
Col.  Elliott  informed  them  after  the  drill  was  over,  and 
said  to  them: 

‘ ‘Soldiers,  this  man,  Capt.  Drannan,  is  now  your 


192 


ON  THE  HUNT. 


chief,  and  you  will  act  according  to  his  orders  « ,v/jy  s.tiC 
all  times.  He  will  instruct  you  when  to  meet  aitn  at  his 
private  quarters.”  ^ 

The  next  three  days  were  spent  in  drilling  the  scouts 
to  mount  and  dismount  quickly,  to  shoot  at  *ome  object 
when  on  the  dead  run,  to  lie  on  the  side  of  the  horse  and 
shoot  at  an  object  on  the  opposite  side  while  running  at 
full  speed,  and  a great  deal  of  other  work  of  that  kind. 

Three  days  later  we  started  east,  \ apt.  Milk*  and 
Lieut.  Harding  with  their  companies,  expecting  to  go 
about  one  hundred  miles  before  locating  permanently  for 
the  summer.  I started  out  in  advance  of  the  command 
with  my  entire  force  of  scouts.  We  traveled  ^bout  fif- 
teen miles  together,  when  we  separated,  four  taking  the 
north  side  of  the  emigrant  trail,  with  instructions  to  keep 
from  four  to  five  miles  from  it;  four  keeping  the  trail 
and  four,  with  myself,  south  of  the  trail.  I gave  the 
men  north  instructions  in  case  they  should  had  an  Indian 
trail  to  follow  it  until  they  were  sure  the  Indians  were 
making  for  the  emigrant  trail,  and  then  dispatch  one 
man  to  notify  the  men  on  the  trail,  the  other  three  fol- 
low the  Indians,  and  at  the  end  of  three  uays  all  were  to 
meet  at  a certain  point  on  the  trail  where,  we  expected  to 
meet  the  soldiers. 

The  second  day  out  we  struck  an  Indian  trail  south 
of  the  road,  but  it  being  an  old  one  ve  did  not  follow  it 
but  made  a note  of  the  number  we  thought  there  were  in 
the  band,  an  that  night  we  pulled  for  the  emigrant  trail, 
expecting  to  meet  the  soldiers  there. 

We  did  not  meet  the  soldiers,  but  met  the  four  scouts 
who  had  traveled  on  the  emigrant  trail. 


NO  PROVISIONS* 


193 


We  got  no  word  that  night  from  the  men  north,  but 
according  to  agreement  we  went  to  a hill  near  by  and 
built  two  fires  of  sagebrush,  that  they  might  know  where 
we  were,  and  if  in  need  of  assistance  they  could  dispatch, 
but  did  not  see  nor  hear  anything  of  them. 

The  next  morning  I kept  the  emigrant  trail  myself, 
sending  the  other  squad  of  men  south,  with  instructions 
to  meet  me  at  Humboldt  Wells,  telling  them  about  the 
distance  it  was  from  where  we  were  then  camped,  and 
describing  the  place  to  to  them.  There  we  would  wait 
until  the  command  came  up,  as  we  were  now  running 
short  of  rations.  That  day  the  party  south  struck  the 
same  trail  that  we  had  seen  the  day  before;  two  of  them 
followed  it  and  the  other  two  came  to  camp  to  report. 
The  party  that  had  started  out  north  of  the  trail  got  into 
camp  just  at  dusk,  tired  and  hungry,  and  the  following 
morning  at  daylight  the  other  two  from  the  south  came 
into  camp.  From  what  I could  learn  from  them  the  band 
of  Indians  they  had  been  following  were  traveling  along 
almost  parallel  with  the  emigrant  trail,  looking  for  emi- 
grants, as  it  was  now  getting  time  that  the  emigrants 
were  beginning  to  string  along  across  the  plains  en-route 
for  the  gold  fields  of  California. 

Our  provisions  had  run  out,  so  we  sat  up  late  that 
night  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  command,  but  we  looked 
in  vain. 

The  following  morning,  just  as  I could  begin  to  see 
that  it  was  getting  a little  light  in  the  east,  myself  and 
one  assistant  scout  crawled  out  quietly,  without  disturb- 
ing the  other  boys,  to  kill  some  game.  We  had  not  gone 
far  from  camp  when  we  saw  nine  antelope;  we  both  fired 


194 


NEW  RECRUITS. 


and  both  shot  the  same  antelope.  We  dressed  the  game 
and  took  it  to  camp,  arriving  there  just  as  the  other  two 
scouts  came  in  from  the  south.  The  boys  were  all 
up  in  camp,  and  considerable  excitement  prevailed 
among  them,  they  having  heard  two  shots,  and  thought 
the  Indians  had  attacked  us.  They  were  all  hungry  as 
wolves,  so  we  broiled  and  ate  antelope  almost  as  long  as 
there  was  any  to  eat. 

Almost  the  entire  scout  force  were  from  New  York, 
and  were  new  recruits  who  had  never  known  what  it 
was  to  rough  it,  and  they  said  this  was  the  first  meal 
they  had  ever  made  on  meat  alone.  After  breakfast  was 
over,  it  now  being  understood  that  we  would  lie  over 
until  the  supply  train  should  come  up,  my  first  assistant 
scout  and  two  others  took  a trip  to  a mountain  some  two 
miles  from  camp,  which  was  the  highest  mountain  near 
us,  taking  my  glasses  along  to  look  for  the  supply  train. 
In  about  two  hours  one  of  the  scouts  returned  to  camp 
in  great  haste  and  somewhat  excited,  saying  that  about 
fifteen  or  twenty  miles  distant  they  had  seen  a band  of 
Indians  who  were  traveling  in  the  direction  of  camp. 
We  all  saddled  our  horses,  left  a note  at  camp  informing 
Capt.  Mills  where  we  had  gone  and  for  what  purpose. 
We  started  for  what  has  ever  since  been  known  as  Look- 
out Mountain — of  course  not  the  famous  Lookout  Moun- 
tain of  Tenneesse — and  there  joined  the  other  three 
scouts.  From  the  top  of  this  mountain  we  could  get  a 
good  view  of  the  Indians  through  the  field  glasses.  We 
watched  them  until  about  one  o’clock,  when  they  went  into 
camp  in  the  head  of  a little  ravine  some  five  miles  distant. 
This  convinced  us  that  there  was  water  and  that  they 


A BAND  OF  UTES. 


*95 


had  stopped  for  the  night.  We  located  them  as  well  as 
we  could,  and  the  entire  scout  force,  being  thirteen  all 
told,  started  across  the  country  for  their  camp. 

Seven  of  this  number  of  scouts  had  never  seen  a wild 
Indian  and  were  over  anxious  to  have  a little  sport 
with  the  redskins.  The  Indians,  being  in  a little  ravine, 
we  were  able  to  get  within  a half  a mile  of  them  be- 
fore they  could  see  us.  After  advancing  as  far  as  we 
thought  prudent,  one  of  the  scouts  and  myself  dismounted 
and  crept  through  the  sagebrush  within  three  hundred 
yards  of  them.  Their  fire  was  yet  burning  and  the  In- 
dians were  lounging  around,  everything  indicating  that 
they  had  just  cooked  and  eaten  their  dinner.  I counted 
them  and  made  out  twenty-one,  my  assistant  scout  made 
twenty-three,  and  instead  of  being  Pah-Utes,  as  we  ex- 
pected, they  were  Utes.  The  boys  all  being  anxious  to 
try  their  hand,  I decided  to  make  the  attack  at  once. 
Returning  to  where  I had  left  the  other  scouts,  I told 
them  my  plan  of  attack,  telling  them  to  bear  in  mind 
that  one  shot  well  calculated  was  worth  three  or  four  at 
random.  I also  told  them  as  soon  as  I gave  the  war- 
whoop  for  each  of  them  to  make  all  the  noise  he  could. 

Now  we  all  mounted,  and  by  riding  up  a little  ravine 
we  were  able  to  get  within  fifty  rods  of  them  before  they 
could  see  us. 

Before  making  the  charge  I told  the  boys  to  draw 
their  pistols,  and  when  the  pistols  were  emptied  to  draw 
sabres  and  cut  the  savages  down  before  they  could  get  to 
their  horses.  We  rode  slowly  and  cautiously  until  almost 
in  sight  of  the  Indians,  when  I gave  the  word  ‘ ‘Charge!” 
and  all  put  spurs  to  their  horses,  raised  the  yell,  and  one 


196 


THE  BATTLE. 


minute  later  we  were  in  their  midst,  arrows  and  bullets 
flying  in  all  directions.  I received  an  arrow  wound  in 
the  calf  of  my  right  leg,  the  man  immediately  on  my 
right  got  shot  through  the  left  or  bridle  arm,  and  one  of 
the  raw  recruits  got  his  horse  shot  from  under  him. 

He  did  not  wait  for  orders,  but  drew  his  sabre  and 
went  to  work  cutting  them  down  as  he  came  to  them. 
When  we  first  made  the  charge  some  of  the  Indians 
made  a desperate  attempt  to  get  their  horses,  but  the 
scouts  shot  and  cut  them  down,  not  allowing  one  of  them 
to  mount.  The  Indians,  much  to  my  surprise,  fought  as 
long  as  there  was  one  of  them  left  standing.  The  battle 
lasted  about  fifteen  minutes,  and  when  it  was  over  we 
counted  the  dead  Indians  and  found  the  number  to  be 
nineteen,  but  there  were  twenty-one  horses,  so  we  were 
confident  that  two  Indians  either  escaped  or  fell  in  the 
sagebrush  where  we  could  not  find  them. 

We  gathered  up  the  horses  and  ropes  that  belonged 
to  the  Indians.  The  man  that  had  his  horse  killed  in 
the  battle,  caught  the  best  horse  in  the  band,  threw  the 
saddle  on  him  and  started  for  camp,  considering  we  had 
done  a good  day’s  work.  As  we  rode  down  the  ravine  in 
the  direction  of  the  emigrant  trail  some  of  the  boys  looked 
in  that  direction  and  saw  the  smoke  curling  up  from  a 
camp-fire. 

“The  command  has  arrived!”  shouted  one  of  the 
boys. 

I proposed  that  we  give  the  Captain  a surprise.  We 
all  dismounted,  and  each  fastened  a scalp  to  the  brow- 
band  of  his  bridle,  and  when  the  Captain  saw  us  coming 

and  saw  that  each  had  a scalp,  he  said:  “Boys,  let’s 


One  minute  later  we  were  in  their  midst  Page  196 


Steen's  Mountain. 


197 


give  them  three  cheers.”  At  that  the  valley  rang  out 
with  the  yells. 

This  pleased  the  new  recruits  that  had  been  engaged 
in  the  battle,  and  I can  truthfully  say  that  I never  saw 
the  same  number  of  green  men  equal  them  in  the  first 
engagement,  for  every  one  of  them  fought  like  heroes. 

We  dismounted,  turned  our  horses  over  to  the  herdei 
and  called  for  supper.  This  was  the  first  square  meal 
that  it  had  been  our  pleasure  to  sit  down  to  for  four 
days,  and  this  was  where  none  of  us  shrunk  from  duty, 
in  the  least. 

By  this  time  the  wound  in  my  leg  was  beginning  to 
pain  me,  and  gave  me  more  trouble  than  I anticipated. 
The  next  morning  it  was  badly  swollen,  and  I was  not 
able  to  ride  horseback  for  several  days. 

That  morning  we  pulled  for  Steen’s  Mountain,  which 
we  supposed  to  be  about  forty  miles  from  where  we  were 
camped. 

Not  being  able  to  ride  horseback,  I rode  in  one  of 
the  ambulances. 

From  here  we  kept  guards  out  on  each  side  of  the 
trail,  with  orders  to  keep  from  five  to  six  miles  from  the 
train,  and  if  any  Indians  were  seen  to  report  at  once. 

The  second  day  in  the  afternoon  Capt.  Mills  estab- 
lished his  headquarters  about  one  mile  from  the  trail,  in 
a beautiful  spot;  plenty  of  water,  an  abundance  of  good 
grass,  and  a few  pine  trees  scattered  here  and  there, 
making  it  an  unusually  pleasant  place  for  quarters  that 
summer. 

Not  being  able  to  ride,  I stayed  in  camp,  but  sent  all 
the  other  scouts  out.  The  second  day  my  first  assistant 


198 


FOUR  SCOUTS  LOST. 


returned  and  reported  having  found  the  trail,  as  he 
thought,  of  about  fifty  Indians,  traveling  west,  and  about 
parallel  with  the  emigrant  trail. 

The  next  morning  I started  my  assistant  and  three 
scouts  after  the  Indians,  with  orders  to  report  as  soon  as 
they  had  the  redskins  located. 

They  were  gone  four  days  and  no  word  came  from 
them.  I began  to  be  very  uneasy,  as  well  as  Capt.  Mills, 
thinking  something  must  have  happened  them  or  they 
would  have  returned,  as  they  only  took  three  days’  ra- 
tions with  them.  I took  four  other  scouts  and  went  on 
their  trail. 

The  reader  will  understand  that  in  this  country  the 
soil  is  somewhat  sandy,  and  a horse  is  easily  tracked. 
Our  horses  being  shod,  it  was  easy  to  distinguish  their 
tracks  from  that  of  the  Indians’  horses.  My  wound  gave 
me  much  trouble,  but  we  followed  the  trail  of  the  other 
scouts  for  some  distance  after  striking  the  trail  of  the 
Indians,  and  their  horses  being  shod,  we  could  easily 
track  them,  but  finally  they  became  so  obliterated  that 
we  could  see  no  more  trace  of  the  shod  horses.  We 
sought  in  vain  to  get  some  sign  of  them,  and  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  while  the  scouts  were  trailing  the  In- 
dians another  band  had  stolen  up  behind  them  and  either 
killed  or  taken  them  all  prisoners,  for  we  could  get  no 
trace  of  them,  nor  have  they  ever  been  heard  of  since. 
As  soon  as  I returned  to  quarters,  by  the  consent  of 
Capt.  Mills,  I detailed  two  men  of  my  scout  force  to 
carry  a dispatch  to  Col.  Elliott.  As  the  Indians  were 
now  too  far  west  for  Capt.  Mills  to  attempt  to  follow 
them,  I sent  the  two  best  men  I had  to  bear  the  message 


ANOTHER  BAND. 


199 


to  the  Colonel.  They  made  the  trip  in  two  nights,  rid- 
ing at  night  and  lying  over  in  the  daytime.  The  next 
day  after  the  Colonel  received  the  dispatch  his  scouts 
discovered  the  same  band  of  Indians,  and  Col.  Elliott 
sent  one  company  of  soldiers  out  at  once  after  them 
The  soldiers  overhauled  them  at  Clover  Valley,  which 
was  about  forty  miles  south  of  the  emigrant  trail,  and 
attacked  the  redskins,  but  they  were  too  much  for  the 
soldiers.  In  the  engagement  the  loss  to  the  command 
was  sixteen  men  killed,  and  I never  knew  just  how  many 
were  wounded  or  how  many  Indians  were  killed.  The 
soldiers  had  to  retreat.  All  I ever  learned  from  this 
battle  I learned  from  the  dispatch  bearers,  as  they 
stayed  at  Col.  Elliott’s  quarters  until  after  the  soldiers 
had  returned  from  the  engagement 

From  this  on  I kept  scouts  out  south  of  the  trail  con- 
tinually. 

One  evening  one  of  the  scouts  came  in  and  reported 
having  seen  a little  band  of  Indians  some  twelve  or  fif- 
teen miles  south  of  the  trail.  The  other  three  scouts  that 
were  ou'c  with  him  remained  to  watch  the  Indians  while 
he  came  to  report.  The  scout  was  not  able  to  tell  just 
the  number,  as  they  were  some  distance  away.  The 
other  three  scouts  secreted  their  horses,  crawled  to  the 
top  of  the  highest  hill  near  by  and  lay  there  in  the  sage- 
brush and  with  glasses  watched  the  Indians,  who  were 
traveling  almost  in  the  direction  where  the  scouts  lay, 
bearing  a little  south,  so  that  the  scouts  did  not  have  to 
change  their  hiding  place.  I mounted  my  horse  for  the 
first  time  since  I had  been  laid  up,  and  in  company  with 


200 


REINFORCEMENTS. 


five  other  scouts,  including  the  one  who  had  brought  the 
message  to  me,  started  to  investigate  the  matter. 

We  rode  to  where  the  other  three  scouts  had  been 
left,  and  they  were  awaiting  our  arrival.  They  had  lain 
on  the  hill  and  watched  the  Indians  go  into  camp  and 
then  returned  to  where  the  dispatch  bearer  had  left  them. 

After  holding  a council  for  about  five  minutes  we  all 
mounted  and  rode  as  near  the  Indians  as  we  considered 
safe,  and  dismounted.  Taking  another  scout  who  had 
been  watching  them,  I crawled  as  near  as  we  dared  to 
their  camp  to  try  to  ascertain  their  number.  We  decided 
that  there  were  about  fifty.  It  was  perilous  to  get  very 
dose  for  the  reason  that  the  Indians  had  a number  of 
dogs,  and  when  we  would  get  too  near  the  dogs  would 
begin  to  bark,  and  three  or  four  Indians  would  raise  up 
and  look  about  and  every  Indian  in  the  band  would 
listen.  When  we  returned  to  where  we  had  left  the  other 
scouts  they  were  all  prepared  for  an  attack,  but  I told 
them  there  were  too  many  for  us  to  tackle  alone.  Be- 
sides, they  were  Utes,  the  worst  Indians  in  the  whole 
country  to  fight. 

We  were  now  about  fifteen  miles  from  headquarters, 
so  I dispatched  two  men  at  once  to  Capt.  Mills  in  all 
haste,  requesting  him  to  be  there  by  daybreak,  if  it  were 
within  the  bounds  of  possibility.  This  being  a sandy, 
sagebrush  country,  one  could  not  ride  at  full  speed,  but 
the  scouts  made  good  time,  nevertheless,  and  Capt.  Mills 
and  his  command  were  with  us  before  daylight.  We  met 
him  about  a mile  from  where  the  Indians  were  camped, 
and  I told  him  how  the  ground  lay  and  the  general  sur- 
roundings as  best  I could,  and  I suggested  that  as  on  ac- 


THE  CHARGE. 


201 


count  of  the  dogs  I had  not  been  able  to  locate  the  horses 
of  the  Indians,  it  would  be  advisable  to  wait  until  day- 
light to  make  the  attack. 

We  waited  about  an  hour,  when  the  Captain  said  he 
thought  it  was  light  enough  to  kill  Indians.  He  gave 
orders  to  mount,  drew  his  men  up  in  line  and  rode  back 
and  forth,  up  and  down  the  line,  instructing  them  how  to 
proceed,  saying: 

“When  I give  the,  word,  ‘charge!’  every  man  draw 
his  pistol,  and  when  within  fifty  yards,  begin  to  fire. 
Don’t  fire  at  random,  but  take  good  aim,  and  when  your 
pistols  are  empty  draw  your  sabres  and  cut  them  down. 
Don’t  let  one  escape.  Don’t  wait  for  further  orders;  you 
have  them,  now  carry  them  out.” 

Capt.  Mills  rode  to  the  left  wing  and  asked  me  to 
take  the  right.  I told  him  I thought  it  best  that  myself 
and  the  scout  force  should  make  a dash  for  the  Indian 
horses  as  soon  as  he  made  the  charge,  for  if  we  could 
succeed  in  getting  the  horses  we  need  not  let  one  Indian 
escape. 

It  was  now  so  light  that  we  could  see  their  ponies  on 
the  hill  just  beyond  their  camp.  All  being  ready,  and  I 
having  instructed  my  assistants,  the  Captain  ordered 
them  to  charge.  I made  a dash  to  the  right  with  my  en- 
tire scout  force.  This  was  a great  surprise  to  the  red- 
skins. They  were  nearly  all  abed  yet,  except  a few  of 
the  earliest  risers.  Those  who  were  up  made  a desperate 
rush  for  their  horses,  but  unavailingly.  We  got  there  first 
and  stampeded  the  herd.  Some  of  the  horses  were  pick- 
eted, but  we  cut  the  ropes  as  fast  as  we  came  to  them, 


202 


A PRETTY  RACE. 


and  before  any  of  the  Indians  could  get  to  their  horses 
we  had  them  on  the  dead  run. 

Taking  a circuitous  route  we  drove  the  horses  around 


the  last  Indian  fall.  When  it  was  good  light  the  Indians 
could  be  seen  lying  around  in  every  direction.  The  or- 
derly sergeant  and  two  privates  were  looking  around  in 
he  sagebrush,  thinking  there  might  be  some  of  them 
aiding  there,  and  all  of  a sudden  two  young  bucks 
started  up  and  began  to  run,  and  for  about  three  hun- 
dred yards  they  had  what  I thought  to  be  the  prettiest 
race  I had  ever  witnessed.  The  two  Indians  on  foot  and 
the  soldiers  on  horseback,  running  through  the  sage- 
brush and  every  man  in  the  crowd,  from  the  Captain 


Two  young  bucks  started  to  run. 


between  the 
scene  of  bat- 
tle and  head- 
quarters. 
When  about 
a mile  distant 
my  first  as- 
sistant and 
myself  re- 
turned to  the 
battle  ground 
leaving  the 
other  scouts 
to  guard  the 
horses.  We 
arrived  at  the 
scene  just  in 
time  to  see 


A DAY  S REST. 


203 


down,  yelling  at  the  top  of  his  voice.  Here  I did  the 
poorest  shooting  that  I had  ever  done  in  my  life,  empty- 
ing one  of  my  revolvers  and  not  touching  an  Indian. 
But  the  soldiers  finally  got  them. 

We  counted  the  dead  braves  and  found  them  to  be 
:rty-eight  in  number. 

In  this  engagement  Capt.  Mills  did  not  lose  a man, 
and  only  one  was  wounded.  This  was  the  result  of  making 
the  attack  so  early  in  the  morning.  Had  it  been  later, 
after  the  Indians  were  all  up,  they  would  have  made  a 
harder  fight. 

The  battle  being  over  we  all  started  for  headquarters, 
feeling  jubilant  over  the  victory. 

We  reached  headquarters  at  ten  o’clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, after  which  Capt.  Mills  told  us  we  had  done  enough 
for  one  day,  and  that  all  could  take  it  easy  for  the 
rest  of  the  day.  The  next  morning  I struck  out  east 
on  the  emigrant  trail,  sending  one  man  north  and  one 
south  of  the  trail,  each  taking  three  days’  rations,  our 
object  being  to  meet  emigrants,  if  there  were  any,  and 
guard  them  through  to  Capt.  Mills’  quarters,  as  it  was 
now  time  for  the  emigrants  to  come  stringing  along;  a 
time  that  heretofore  among  the  Indians  had  been  con- 
sidered a harvest  in  this  section  of  the  country. 

The  first  day  in  the  afternoon  I rode  to  a high  hill, 
took  my  glasses,  and  looking  east  I saw  a train  of 
emigrants  stringing  along.  This  was  the  first  train  of 
the  season.  The  scout  from  the  north  and  also  the 
one  from  the  south  had  got  sight  of  them,  and  were 
pulling  for  the  trail.  We  pushed  on  and  met  the  train 
just  as  it  was  pulling  into  camp.  I called  for  the  captain 


204 


A LARGE  TRAIN. 


and  he  came  forth.  I told  him  we  were  scouts  for  Capt. 
Mills,  and  were  out  for  the  purpose  of  protecting  emi- 
grants. The 
captain,  as 
well  as  the 
people  in  the 
train,  were 
very  much 
pleased  to 
know  that 
they  were 
going  to  have 
protect  ion 
after  that 
through  the 
hostile  coun- 
I rode  to  a high  hill-top.  try.  They 

had  been 

troubled  more  or  less  by  Indians  all  the  way  through 
Utah,  having  a great  deal  of  stock,  both  horses  and  cat- 
tle, stolen  by  the  Indians,  as  they  supposed,  but  among 
men  who  were  better  informed  it  was  the  supposition  that 
they  were  stolen  by  white  men,  for  in  those  days  there 
was  a set  of  white  men  in  Utah  much  worse  than  In- 
lians. 

On  learning  that  I had  been  in  California  they  had 
many  questions  to  ask  about  the  gold  fields  of  that  noted 
country.  They  were  expecting  to  find  gold  by  the  bushel 
when  onc(e  there. 

This  was  a large  train,  there  being  one  hundred  and 
twenty  wagons  all  told.  The  next  morning  I sent  out 

r 


A BEAUTIFUL  VALLEY. 


205 


one  of  my  scouts  north  of  the  train,  the  other  one  ahead, 
with  instructions  to  keep  from  one  to  two  miles  in  front, 
and  I went  south  of  the  trail  that  day.  This  was  done 
so  that  if  the  scouts  should  see  a large  band  of  Indians 
they  could  notify  the  emigrants  and  give  them  a chance 
to  prepare  for  the  battle,  but  we  experienced  no  trouble 
on  this  trip. 

We  were  two  days  traveling  from  where  we  met  the 
train  to  Capt.  Mills’  quarters,  and  from  here  the  Captain 
sent  a sergeant  and  twenty  men  to  guide  the  emigrants 
through  to  Col.  Elliott’s  headquarters. 

This  kind  of  work  was  kept  up  for  about  a month, 
every  week,  and  sometimes  two  or  three  trains  of  emi- 
grants would  pass  by,  but  we  experienced  no  serious 
trouble  the  remainder  of  the  season  with  Indians. 

During  this  summer  the  officers  in  looking  through 
their  glasses  from  different  high  points  around,  discov- 
ered a beautiful  valley,  which  we  afterwards  learned  was 
named  Thousand  Springs  Valley.  Capt.  Mills  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  this  valley  at  this  time  of  the  year 
was  headquarters  for  the  Utes,  and  not  thinking  the  dis- 
tance was  so  great  sent  another  scout  and  myself  to  in- 
vestigate. 

It  may  be  well  to  mention  the  fact  here,  that  in  these 
regions  the  air  is  so  Tariffed  and  clear  that  distances  are 
very  deceptive,  objects  appearing  to  be  much  closer  than 
they  really  are. 

We  started  with  three  days’  rations,  and  on  the  third 
day  in  the  afternoon  we  struck  the  valley,  just  at  its 
mouth  on  the  desert,  but  the  water  was  warm,  and  we 
traveled  some  distance  up  the  valley,  finding  the  springs 


20  6 


BREAK  CAMP. 


numerous,  but  all  warm.  We  also  found  an  abundance 
of  grass  and  plenty  of  Indian  sign,  but  not  fresh.  It  ap- 
peared that  a large  number  of  Indians  had  wintered 
there.  After  looking  the  valley  over  we  returned  to  camp, 
but  by  a different  route  from  the  one  we  came.  We  saw 
no  Indians  or  fresh  sign  of  them  until  the  second  day  of 
the  return  trip,  but  about  two  o’clock  we  came  in  sight 
of  four  Indians  traveling  eastward.  We  tried  to  attack 
them,  but  our  horses  being  much  jaded,  the  Indians  out- 
rode us,  so  we  had  to  give  up  the  chase.  We  were  of  the 
opinion  that  the  four  Indians  were  scouts  for  a big  band 
making  its  way  to  winter  quarters. 

A short  distance  north  we  secreted  our  horses  in  a 
ravine,  and  watched  for  the  Indians  from  the  top  of  a 
high  hill  until  noon  the  next  day,  but  all  in  vain,  for  we 
did  not  see  an  Indian.  We  returned  to  camp,  our  horses 
worn  out  and  half  starved.  The  part  of  country  we 
passed  over  on  this  trip  is  now  the  most  northeastern 
portion  of  Nevada,  and  just  what  it  is  good  for  I have 
never  been  able  to  learn. 

After  lying  around  here  watching  for  emigrants  about 
two  weeks  longer,  and  making  two  different  trips  east  on 
the  emigrant  trail,  Capt.  Mills  now  concluded  that  there 
would  be  no  more  emigrants  that  fall,  so  we  pulled  up 
and  moved  to  Col.  Elliott’s  quarters.  We  kept  scouts 
out  on  the  trip,  but  did  not  see  an  Indian  or  even  a fresh 
trail  on  the  trip.  On  arriving  at  Col.  Elliott’s  quarters 
I could  see  that  he  was  not  pleased  with  the  way  things 
had  gone  with  his  command  during  the  summer.  His 
men  had  had  two  engagements  during  the  season,  and 
had  got  the  worst  of  it  both  times. 


A GENERAL  SPREE. 


207 


He  had  lost  twenty-six  men,  and  not  a scalp  to  show 
for  them. 

Capt.  Mills  felt  quite  jubilant.  He  had  over  sixty 
Indian  horses  that  he  had  captured,  over  sixty  scalps, 
and  had  not  lost  a man,  with  the  exception  of  the  four 
scouts.  Col.  Elliott  did  not  have  much  to  say,  but  the 
Lieutenant  declared  that  the  Colonel  was  very  jealous  of 
Capt.  Mills  over  the  past  summer’s  work. 

After  remaining  at  headquarters  about  a week  we 
pulled  out  across  the  Sierra  Nevada  Mountains,  along 
the  same  route  that  we  had  taken  the  fall  before,  some- 
what earlier,  and  winter  not  having  yet  set  in,  we  ex- 
perienced no  trouble,  in  crossing.  The  first  night  we 
camped  at  the  head  of  Eagle  Valley,  and  from  there  to 
Jim  Beckwith’s  ranche  it  was  sixty  miles. 

I being  over-anxious  to  see  Jim,  saddled  up  my  Pinto 
horse  the  next  morning  and  started  for  his  place,  making 
the  ride  in  one  day.  On  my  arrival  I found  Jim  doing  a 
rushing  business  in  the  hotel  line,  but  was  just  in  the  act 
of  selling  out  his  hotel  to  a man  from  Sacramento. 
Beckwith  had  sold  all  my  horses  during  the  summer  at 
what  I thought  a good  figure,  having  got  fifty  dollars  per 
head  all  around. 

The  command  came  on  two  days  later,  pitched  thei 
tents  and  stayed  two  days,  having  a red  hot  time.  Thu 
men  had  plenty  of  money,  and  Jim  Beckwith,  who  was 
now  running  a saloon  in  connection  with  his  hotel,  had 
plenty  of  bad  whiskey.  The  Colonel  put  very  little  re- 
striction on  his  men  while  they  remained  there,  allowing 
them  to  have  a general  spree,  for  they  had  been  where 


208 


GEYSERS. 


there  was  no  chance  to  spend  their  money,  and  the  little 
they  had  was  burning  their  pockets. 

Jim  Beckwith  made  a handsome  little  clean-up  during 
the  two  days  they  were  camped  there. 

. When  the  Colonel  was  ready  to  pull  out  for  San 
Francisco  he  came  to  me  and  invited  me  to  come  to  the 
Fort  and  spend  a few  months  during  the  winter.  I told 
him  I did  not  know  where  I would  winter,  but  preferred 
to  seek  quarters  where  I could  hunt  for  a livelihood.  I 
told  him  I did  not  wish  to  put  in  another  winter  lounging 
around  as  I did  the  last  one.  The  Colonel  made  me  a 
proposition  to  come  to  the  Fort  after  I had  visited  my 
friend,  Jim  Beckwith,  saying  that  he  would  organize  a 
hunting  .party  among  the  officers  and  take  a trip  north  of 
San  Francisco  on  the  Russian  river. 

The  country  to  which  we  wished  to  go  is  now  So- 
noma County,  Cal.,  of  which  Santa  Rosa  is  the  county 
seat.  In  fact  the  region  is  now  called  Santa  Rosa  Val- 
ley, and  it  is  well  named,  for  it  is  a great  garden  of  roses 
and  other  beautiful  flowers  that  grow  indigenously  and 
in  luxurious  profusion.  At  the  head  of  the  valley  are  the 
famous  geysers  of  California. 

The  Colonel,  after  dividing  the  horses  with  me, 

’ started  for  the  Fort,  I agreeing  to  join  him  there  in  a few 
weeks  for  the  hunt. 

After  remaining  at  Jim  Beckwith’s  for  a few  days,  he 
and  a gentleman  from  Sacramento  came  to  a trade,  Jim 
selling  out  ‘ ‘slick  and  clean.” 

Jim  had  too  much  money  to  stay  in  the  mountains. 
I saw  $12,000  weighed  out  to  him  in  gold-dust,  and  ] 


209 


* ‘GOING  TO  THE  BAY. 9 * 


don’t  know  hqw  much  coin  he  had,  but  there  were  several 
thousand, dollars  of  it. 

“Now  we  will  go  to  San  Francisco  for  the  winter,” 
said  he,  “and  will  have  a good  time.  You  stay  with  me 
this  winter,  and  it  shan’t  cost  you  a cent.” 

We  took  our  horses  and  started  for  Sacramento, 
making  the  trip  in  four  days.  Here  we  boarded  a boat 


<r 


for  the  bay. 

In  those  days  persons 
speaking  of  going  to  San 
Francisco,  always  spoke  of  it 
pis  “going  to  the  bay.” 

The  second  morning  after 
our  arrival,  I found  at  the 
feed-yard,  where  my  horses 
were,  a gentleman  awaiting 
my  arrival,  who  wanted  to  Wanted  to  buy  my  horses, 

buy  my  stock. 

I sold  all  of  the  horses  to  him  except  Mexico  and 
Pinto — they  were  not  for  sale  at  any  figure. 


210 


PREPARATIONS  kuk  TRIP. 


I stayed  around  the  city  for  tv/ o weeks,  until  it  be- 
came monotonous.  Jim  Beckwith  had  lots  of  money, 
and  it  looked  to  me  as  though  he  wanted  to  get  rid 
of  it  as  soon  as  possible.  He  would  get  just  so  full 
every  day,  and  when  he  was  full  of  whiskey  his  tongue 
appeared  to  be  loose  at  both  ends.  It  now  being  the 
first  of  December,  I saddled  my  horse  and  rode  out  to 
the  Fort,  and  on  arriving  there  I found  all  anxious  for 
the  hunt.  Col.  Elliott  had  been  talking  the  matter 
up  among  them.  It  took  about  three  days  to  prepare 
for  the  trip,  and  I kept  hurrying  them  up,  all  that  was 
in  my  power,  for  I did  not  want  to  fool  around  there 
until  the  good  ladies  took  it  in  their  heads  to  have 
another  dance,  as  it  was  not  a dance  that  I was  hunt- 
ing. I had  had  enough  of  that  o*  my  other  visit  to 
satisfy  me  for  some  time  to  come. 


Petaluma  Creek. 


21  I 


CHAPTER  XV. 


A hunt  on  Petaluma  Creek. — Elk  fever  breaks 
out. — The  expedition  to  Klamath  Lake. — A 

LIVELY  BRUSH  WITH  MODOC  INDIANS. 


The  hunting  party  made  up  at  the  Fort  was  ready 
early  in  December,  and  we  pulled  out,  promising  to  be 
home  by  New  Year’s  day,  at  the  latest. 

At  this  time  there  were  no  steamers  running  across 
the  bay  in  the  direction  we  wished  to  go,  so  we  hired  a 
tug  to  take  us  over  to  the  mouth  of  Petaluma  creek,  near 
which  we  proposed  to  pitch  our  hunting  camp.  Here 
was  live-oak  timber,  with  now  and  then  a redwood,  and 
in  places  the  chapparal  was  thick,  and  there  was  no  end 
to  deer  sign. 

We  had  plenty  of  shelter  in  case  of  storm,  having  two 
good-sized  tents  in  the  outfit  and  only  six  men,  not 
counting  the  darkey  cook,  who,  however,  always  does 
count  in  an  expedition  like  that.  In  the  party  I was  the 
only  one  who  had  ever  hunted  any.  Three  of  the  others 
had  never  fired  a shot  at  larger  game  than  a jack-rabbit. 
Col.  Elliott  had  once  killed  a deer,  of  which  I made  men- 
tion in  a preceding  chapter. 

The  following  morning  after  breakfast  I told  them  to 
select  their  course  for  the  day’s  hunting,  and  I would  go 
in1  an  opposite  direction. 

“Why  do  you  wish  to  go  in  an  opposite  direction?’' 


212  • 


THE  CAMP-FIRE. 


Lieut.  Harding  asked;  “Why  not  all  go  together?”  I 
replied  that  after  we  got  out  in  the  woods  I did  not  think 
they  could  tell  a man  from  a deer,  and  I did  not  want 
to  be  shot  by  a white  man  out  here  in  this  country. 

Capt.  Mills  proposed  that  three  go  at  a time,  two  of- 
ficers and  myself;  by  so  doing  there  would  be  no  danger. 

This  being  satisfactory,  Lieut.  Harding,  Capt.  Mills 
and  myself  took  the  first  turn.  Neither  of  them  had  ever 
hunted  any,  and  both  were  as  ignorant  in  that  line  as  I 
was  when  I started  out  from  St.  Louis  in  company  with 
Uncle  Kit  Carson,  which,  by  the  way,  I had  told  them 
something  about  the  night  before,  while  sitting  around 

the  camp- 
fire. 

When  we 
were  all 
ready  for  the 
hunt  and 
had  started 
to  walk 
away  from 
the  tent, 
Capt.  Mills 
re  quested 
the  Colonel 
to  have  the 
horses  in 
readiness  to 

pack  the  deer  in.  We  had  not  gone  far  until  I asked 
them  if  they  could  not  walk  without  making  so  much 


SHOOTING  DEER. 


213 


noise.  Lieut.  Harding  said  he  did  not  see  what  differ- 
ence it  made  how  a person  walked,  and  I had  to  stop 
and  explain  matters  by  telling  them  that*adeer  depended 
as  much  on  his  ears  as  he  did  on  his  eyes,  and  if  we  did 
not  walk  easier  the  deer  would  hear  us  before  we  could 
get  sight  of  them,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  they  had 
stepped  on  every  stick  along  our  way  and  had  rubbed 
against  every  brush  that  we  passed  near.  Having  been 
trained  to  hunt  since  a boy  of  fifteen  years  old,  it  became 
second  nature  for  me  to  slide  along  without  making  a par- 
ticle of  noise. 

After  traveling  a short  distance  we  saw  four  deer  com- 
ing toward  us,  and  I pointed  out  an  opening  and  said: 
“When  they  get  to  that  place  I will  stop  them;  be  ready, 
and  when  I count  three,  fire.”  When  the  deer  were  all 
on  the  selected  spot  I gave  a keen  whistle,  which  caused 
them  to  stop  and  throw  up  their  heads.  I counted  three 
and  fired,  but  did  not  hear  the  report  of  the  other  guns. 
Just  as  I turned  to  see  what  was  the  trouble,  Capt.  Mills 
fired,  but  Lieut.  Harding  stood  and  held  his  gun  at  a 
“ready”  and  did  not  fire  at  all.  He  said  the  sight  was 
so  pretty  that  he  did  not  think  of  his  gun.  I killed  my 
deer,  and  the  Captain  wounded  his  by  breaking  one  fore 
leg.  The  other  deer  gave  a few  jumps  and  stopped,  and 
I took  the  Lieutenant’s  gun  and  shot  it  dead.  We  now 
had  two  deer  and  were  only  about  a mile  from  camp.  I 
left  the  two  officers  to  dress  the  venison  and  I went  back 
to  camp  after  a horse  to  pack  it  in.  While  I was  away, 
and  before  they  had  got  the  fallen  game  dressed,  two 
other  deer  came  along  within  gunshot  of  them.  The  two 
officers  fired  at  them  and  killed  one  deer,  both  claiming 


ELK  SHOOTING. 


214 


the  honor  of  the  fatal  shot.  Now  we  had  plenty  of  meat 
for  a stajt,  and  would,  no  doubt,  get  more  before  we  con- 
sumed that. 

After  arriving  at  camp  with  the  deer  I directed  Jake, 
the  negro  cook,  to  get  an  early  dinner,  as  I wanted  tc 
take  a big  hunt  that  afternoon. 

While  at  the  dinner  table  I suggested  that  as  they 
could  find  deer  anywhere  around  there,  for  they  were 
as  thick  as  sheep  and  not  very  wild,  that  they  might 
kill  that  kind  of  game,  while  I would  mount  Pinto  and 
prospect  for  larger,  for  I thought  there  were  elk  in  that 
country,  and  if  that  was  true  we  wanted  some  of  them. 

After  dinner  I mounted  my  horse  and  was  off  for 
an  elk  hunt.  After  riding  up  the  river  about  three 
miles  I could  see  any  amount  of  sign.  Dismounting 
and  tying  my  horse,  I took  an  elk  trail  where  a band 
had  just  crossed  the  trail  on  which  I was  riding,  and 
I did  not  follow  it  very  far  until  I came  in  sight  of 
the  elk.  There  were  eight  in  this  band,  and  I had  to 
take  a roundabout  course  to  get  in  gunshot  of  them, 
but  when  I finally  did  get  a shot  at  them  I killed  an  elk 
that  carried  the  largest  pair  of  horns  I have  ever  seen, 
with  one  exception.  I unjointed  his  neck  about  a foot 
from  his  head  and  dressed  him,  but  left  his  hide  on. 
The  head  and  horns  were  all  I could  lift  as  high  as  the 
horse’s  back. 

When  I rode  up  to  camp  and  the  negro  cook  saw 
that  head  of  horns  he  exclaimed:  4 ‘Hello,  Marsta'h; 

what  you  got  dar?  You  must  hab  killed  de  debbil  dis 
time,  suah.”  4^- 

From  the  negro  I learned  that  the  officers  had  all 


ELK  FEVER. 


215 


been  out,  and  had  seen  more  or  less  deer  and  had  done 
more  or  less  shooting,  but  had  only  killed  one  small  doe. 

That  night  the  elk  fever  raged  high  in  camp,  as  that 
pair  of  horns  had  set  them  all  wild  to  go  elk  hunting  the 
next  day.  That  night  we  ordered  an  early  breakfast,  so 
as  to  get  an  early  start  to  our  hunting  ground. 

After  riding  up  the  river  the  next  morning,  to  where 
I had  killed  the  elk  the  day  before,  we  all  dismounted 
and  tied  our  horses.  I asked  them  which  they  preferred, 
to  go  single  or  two  together,  and  they  thought  it  the  best 
plan  to  go  in  couples. 

Being  somewhat  acquainted  with  this  kind  of  game, 
and  knowing  where  to  find  them  at  this  time  of  day,  I 
told  them  what  ridges  to  take  to  lead  them  to  the  main 
divide,  also  what  our  signals  would  be  to  come  together. 

Capt.  Mills  and  I took  up  the  center  ridge,  the  two 
other  couples  going  on  ridges  each  side  of  us,  but  not  in 
sight.  After  going  about  a mile  or  so  we  heard  two  gun- 
shots to  our  left,  and  in  a few  moments  we  could  hear  elk 
running.  The  underbrush  was  so  thick  that  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  get  a shot  at  them  on  the  run,  so,  seeing  an  open- 
ing that  they  were  sure  to  cross,  provided  that  they  did 
not  change  their  course,  I had  the  Captain  to  stand  by 
the  side  of  a big  tree  and  level  his  gun  at  the  opening, 
and  when  an  elk  darkened  the  sight  to  fire,  which  he  did, 
and  got  a fine  elk.  I fired  also,  but  did  not  get  my  elk. 
He  was  as  proud  over  killing  that  elk  as  I was  over  killling 
my  first  buffalo. 

We  hunted  until  about  four  o’clock  that  afternoon, 
and  several  shots  were  fired,  but  the  Captain  was  the 
only  one  who  got  an  elk  that  day.  So  we  loaded  tha* 


2 1 6 


PULLED  CAMP. 


one,  and  the  one  I had  killed  the  day  previous,  on  to  our 
horses  and  returned  to  camp  with  about  all  the  meat  the 
horses  were  able  to  carry. 

The  next  morning  I told  the  other  men  that  as  they 
now  knew  the  elk  range  and  how  to  hunt  them,  and 
could  get  along  without  me  as  well  as  not,  that  I would 
hunt  for  a grizzly  bear,  and  if  I could  only  kill  a grizzly 
I would  be  ready  to  go  home.  I spent  the  next  three 
days  bear  hunting,  and  saw  any  amount  of  sign,  but  only 
saw  one  bear  and  did  not  get  a shot  at  it. 

After  being  out  about  two  weeks,  and  all  having 
enough  of  hunting,  they  thought,  to  last  them  a year — as 
they  had  killed  more  or  less  deer,  and  one  of  them  had 
killed  an  elk— and  time  being  about  up  for  the  tug  to 
come  after  us,  we  pulled  up  camp  and  started  for  the 
bay,  arriving  there  on  the  19th.  The  tug  arrived  on  the 
20th,  about  noon. 

We  reached  San  Francisco  that  evening,  about  dark, 
unloaded  our  baggage  arid  meat,  hired  a man  to  watch  it 
that  night  and  we  saddled  up  and  rode  out  to  the  Fort. 

The  following  morning  X returned  to  the  city,  hired  a 
team  arid  took  our  baggage,  as  wrell  as  the  meat  we  had 
killed,  back  to  the  Fort. 

X was  hailed  several  times  while  passing  through  the 
city  by  parties  who  wished  to  buy  my  mammoth  elk 
horns,  but  X would  not  sell  them,  having  already  given 
them  to  Col.  Elliott. 

X stayed  around  the  city  until  the  middle  of  February, 
not  knowing  what  to  do  to  kill  time,  and  loafing  is  the 
hardest  work  I ever  did. 

About  this  time  Col.  Elliott  received  orders  to  go  out 


217 


AN  EXPEDITION 

into  southeastern  Oregon,  as  soon  as  the  weather  would 
permit,  and  establish  a fort  at  Klamath  Lake.  As  soon  as 
he  received  these  orders  he  came  to  the  city  and  hunted 
me  up,  and  wanted  me  to  go  with  him,  at  the  same  time 
insisting  strongly  on  my  joining  his  command;  saying: 
“If  you  will  enlist  I am  sure  I can  bring  enough  influence 
to  bear  to  procure  a Lieutenant’s  commission  for  you.  ’’ 

I told  him  emphatically  that  I would  not  enlist,  as  I 
intended  to  be  a free  man  all  the  days  of  my  life,  “And 
when  I scout  for  you,”  I said,  “if  I fail  to  do  my  duty,  or 
shirk  in  the  least,  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  say  so,  and  I 
will  quit  then  and  there,  and  at  the  same  time  if  you  ask 
anything  that  I consider  unreasonable,  I will  quit  you 
cold.” 

The  Colonel,  however,  accepted  me  as  an  independ- 
ent scout. 

I requested  him  to  procure  some  one  that  was  familiar 
with  that  country  to  go  along  as  guide,  but  he  tola  me 
that  I would  be  around  the  city,  and  would  have  a better 
chance  to  find  a suitable  person  than  he  would,  and  re- 
quested me  to  find  a man  and  he  would  be  satisfied  with 
the  selection. 

During  my  stay  in  the  city  I saw  a great  many  men 
who  claimed  to  know  all  about  that  country,  and  who 
were  anxious  for  the  trip,  but  when  X would  question 
them  they  did  not  know  any  more  about  the  country  than 
I did,  and  I had  never  been  in  that  region. 

Finally  the  time  was  set  to  start,  which  was  the  first 
of  June. 

Before  starting  this  time  I had  an  understanding  with 
CoL  Elliott  regarding  the  stock  that  might  be  captured  by 


218 


to  Oregon. 


the  scouts;  he  agreeing  to  let  the  scouts  take  the  stock 
captured  by  them  and  divide  it  equally  among  themselves. 

After  having  started,  the  Colonel  was  undecided  as  to 
where  he  would  cross  the  Sierra  Nevada  Mountains.  At 
that  time  there  was  no  map  of  the  country  between  Cali- 
fornia, Oregon  and  Nevada,  but  finally  he  decided  to 
cross  over  the  Beckwith  Pass.  After  we  had  crossed  the 
mountains  we  turned  north,  crossing  the  Truckee  river 
where  Reno  now  stands.  From  here  we  traveled  across 
the  sagebrush  plain  to  Honey  Lake. 

So  far  we  had  no  trouble  with  Indians,  and  the  com- 
mand stopped  to  let  the  horses  rest  a few  days. 

While  lying  there  Col.  Elliott  requested  me  to  take  four 
other  scouts  and  go  north  four  days  to  prospect  for  water 
and  grass,  for  this  was  now  a strange  country  to  all  of  us. 

My  companions  were  John  Reilly,  Fred  Miller,  John 
Boyd  and  George  Jones,  of  whom  there  will  be  more  said 
later  on,  and  who  were  my  companions  the  rest  of  the 
summer,  or,  as  long  as  I was  able  to  scout.  Alto- 
gether there  were  twelve  scouts  in  my  company. 

In  the  evening  of  the  second  day  of  our  trip  we 
camped  at  a nice  little  spring.  We  got  into  camp  just  at 
sundown,  and  having  seen  considerable  Indian  sign  during 
the  day,  I had  the  boys  stake  their  horses  near  the  camp, 
and  I took  a look  around  on  the  ridges  to  see  if  there 
were  any  camp-fires  in  that  part  of  the  country.  I was 
gone  for  about  three  hours,  and  the  boys  got  quite  uneasy 
while  I was  away.  I only  saw  one  Indian  camp,  which 
was  northeast  of  our  camp,  and  not  having  discovered  it 
until  after  dark  I was  unable  to  tell  just  how  far  it  was 
away.  On  my  return  I told  the  boys  that  we  would  have 


CHASED  BY  INDIANS. 


219 


to  stand  guard  that  night,  each  one  taking  a turn  of  two 
hours,  and  as  soon  as  supper  was  over  we  put  the  fire 
out  so  as  not  to  give  the  redskins  any  advantage  in  that 
way.  The  next  morning  we  got  breakfast,  and  as  soon 
as  it  was  light  George  Jones  and  I went  to  the  nearest 
ridge  to  look  for  Indians.  I saw  them  just  breaking 
camp,  and  they  were  about  two  miles  away.  That  day 
we  had  to  travel  very  cautiously,  being  in  an  entirely 
new  country  and  knowing  it  to  be  full  of  hostile  Indians. 

That  night  we  camped  on  a small  stream  which  after- 
wards we  found  to  be  a tributary  of  McCloud’s  river. 
From  what  we  had  seen,  there  appeared  to  be  plenty  of 
water  and  grass,  and  from  the  Indian  sign  we  had  seen, 
they  appeared  to  be  in  large  bands,  so  we  concluded  to 
return  to  the  command.  The  first  day  on  our  return 
trip,  just  about  noon,  as  we  were  looking  for  a place  to 
stop  for  lunch,  we  were  discovered  by  about  twenty  In- 
dians. The  red  devils  made  for  us,  and  their  war- 
whoops  sounded  as  though  they  were  bloodthirsty. 
They  came  pell-mell  over  the  hills  and  hollows  in  hot 
pursuit  of  us,  and  I tell  you  things  looked  a little  blue; 
only  five  of  us  and  at  least  twenty  Indians,  and  no  telling 
how  many  there  would  be  in  a short  time. 

I told  the  boys  that  we  would  give  them  around,  any- 
way; and  I had  four  men  that  were  not  afraid  to  face  an 
Indian  even  in  a hand-to-hand  fight,  if  Necessary;  and 
then  one  feels  more  brave  when  he  knows  that  he  has 
got  companions  who  will  stay  with  him  till  the  last  dog 
is  hung. 

We  rode  to  the  top  of  the  ridge,  stopped  and  drew 
our  revolvers,  and  when  they  were  close  enough  we  fired 


220 


IN  A HURRY. 


two  shots  apiece  in  succession  and  then  put  spurs  to  our 
horses  and  ran  nearly  a mile,  when,  on  looking  back, 
we  saw  thac  we  were  outriding  them.  We  rode  a mile 
further  to  the  next  ridge,  just  dropped  over  out  of  sight, 
and  stopped  and  reloaded  the  empty  chambers  of  our  re- 
volvers. 

We  knew  now  that  we  had  the  best  horses,  and  the 
boys  were  all  anxious  to  give  them  another  round;  so  we 
waited  until  they  were  in  pistol  shot — as  we  felt  more 
bold,  knowing  that  if  we  could  not  whip  them  we  could 
outrun  them — and  taking  good  aim  this  time  we  fired 
three  shots  each,  making  fifteen  shots  in  all. 

We  saw  a number  of  Indians  fall  to  the  ground,  but 
did  not  stay  to  count  them  as  we  were  just  then  in 
somewhat  of  a hurry. 

We  rode  on  again,  they  continuing  to  follow  us. 
When  we  were  far  enough  ahead  again  and  in  a suitable 
place,  we  stopped,  reloaded  and  waited  for  them  to  come 
up,  but  they  seemed  to  have  changed  their  minds  and 
didn’t  appear  as  anxious  to  ride  in  our  company  as  they 
had  on  the  start,  for  now  they  kept  out  of  pistol  shot. 
One  of  the  boys  dismounted  and  said:  “I  believe  I can 

reach  them  from  here,”  and  taking  a rest  over  his  horse’s 
back,  fired  and  killed  a horse.  This  caused  a scattering 
among  them,  and  if  our  horses  had  been  fresh  we  would 
have  tried  to  kill  the  whole  outfit. 

George  Jones  remarked  that  he  guessed  the  red  devils 
had  enough  of  it  already,  and  we  rode  on.  They  made 
two  circles  around  us,  keeping  out  of  gunshot,  and  then 
rode  away. 

We  pushed  on  with  all  haste  possible,  expecting  that 


AGREEABLY  SURPRISED. 


221 


they  had  gone  away  to  get  reinforcements  and  follow  us 
up,  but  that  was  the  last  we  saw  of  them. 

That  night  we  made  a dry  camp,  and  did  not  build 
any  fire  for  fear  that  they  might  be  on  our  trail,  and  the 
next  morning  we  were  off  very  early.  We  rode  until 
about  ten  o’clock,  when  we  struck  plenty  of  grass  and 
water.  Here  we  stopped,  and  one  man  stood  guard  on 
the  hill  while  the  others  ate  breakfast,  and  we  were 
agreeably  surprised  at  not  seeing  any  more  Indians  on 
the  trip. 

We  got  back  to  the  command  the  evening  of  the  sixth 
day,  and  informed  Col.  Elliott  that  there  was  plenty  of 
water  as  far  as  we  went,  and  abundance  of  grass,  also  no 
end  of  Indian  sign. 

The  command  made  preparations  to  move  on  again, 
and  two  days  after  our  return  we  started,  but  moved 
slowly  and  cautiously,  making  only  from  ten  to  fifteen 
miles  a day.  Now  we  had  twelve  scouts  in  all,  and  it 
was  our  business  to  guard  the  command  while  traveling, 
and,  in  fact,  at  all  times  when  there  was  a possibility  of 
an  attack,  and  we  had  to  watch  out  north,  south,  east  and 
west,  lest  a large  band  of  Indians  should  make  an  attack 
unawares  and  get  the  better  of  the  expedition. 

We  traveled  in  this  manner  until  reaching  the  little 
stream  spoken  of,  where  the  scouting  party  had  turned 
back,  not  having  met  any  trouble. 

The  Colonel  thought  it  best  for  me  to  take  a part  of 
my  scouts  and  go  ahead  again  and  prospect  the  country 
for  water  and  grass. 

After  giving  my  other  scouts  particular  orders  to  keep 
a sharp  lookout  for  Indians,  and  to  scout  the  country 


Sa-lo-so,  Son  of  Sa-tan-ta. 


DRIED  FISH. 


223 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


More  fish  than  I had  ever  seen  at  one  time. — 
We  surprise  some  Indians,  who  also  surprise 
us. — The  camp  at  Klamath  Lake. — I get  another 
wound  and  a lot  of  horses. 


When  we  pulled  out  for  Klamath  Lake  we  traveled 
from  five  to  ten  miles  a day  and  kept  scouts  out  in  all 
directions.  While  riding  along  one  day  with  my  four 
assistants,  a few  miles  in  advance  of  the  command,  we 
came  to  a beautiful  body  of  water  which  is  now  known 
as  Clear  Lake,  which  is  the  head  of  Lost  river.  Here 
we  dismounted,  and  on  looking  into  a brush  shanty  that 
stood  on  the  lake  shore,  I saw  more  fish  than  I had  ever 
seen  before  at  one  time.  The  little  shanty  was  filled  to 
its  utmost  capacity  with  fish,  hanging  there  to  dry  for 
winter  use.  Further  on  we  found  numerous  other  similar 
shanties,  all  containing  like  quantities  of  drying  fish. 
These  were  the  Indians’  dry-houses.  They  had  caught 
the  fish  and  hung  them  there  to  dry  in  the  hot  summer’s 
sun.  Such  was  their  food  in  winter  when  the  land  game 
was  scarce. 

After  our  fill  of  admiring  the  beautiful  lake  and  rest- 
ing our  horses,  we  mounted  and  started  back  to  the  com- 
mand. We  had  gone  only  a short  distance,  when,  all  of 
a sudden,  on  reaching  the  top  of  a little  hill,  we  were 


224 


A SKIRMISH 


met  by  twelve  Indians,  who  had  not  seen  us,  nor  us 
them,  until  within  a hundred  yards  of  each  other. 

There  was  only  one  thing  to  do  and  that  was  to  fight, 
for  they  were  directly  between  us  and  the  command,  and 
the  braver  we  were  I thought  the  better;  so  I gave  orders  to 
charge,  but  the  Indians  did  not  stand  fire.  We  got  three 
cf  them  the  first  round  and  in  another  hundred  yards 
we  got  three  more,  but  their  horses  being  fresh  and 
ours  somewhat  jaded,  they  outran  us  and  got  away. 

These  were  the  first  Klamath  Indians  I had  got  close 
enough  to,  to  see  how  their  moccasins  were  made,  and 
for  a person  engaged  in  the  business  that  I was  then  in,  it 
was  quite  essential  to  be  able  to  tell  the  tribe  an  Indian 
belonged  to  by  his  track.  And  here  I will  state  that  not 
any  two  tribes  cut  and  make  their  moccasins  alike,  and 
at  that  time  I could  tell  an  Indian  by  his  track,  if  he  be- 
longed to  any  tribe  that  I was  familiar  with. 

Here  we  laid  over  three  days  to  let  our  horses  rest  up 
a little.  While  here  we  had  all  the  fish  that  we  wanted 
to  eat,  for  the  lake  was  literally  full  of  the  finest  in  the 
land. 

In  a southwesterly  direction  we  could  see,  by  looking 
through  our  field  glasses,  a large  valley,  which  Col.  El- 
liott thought  to  be  the  country  which  he  was  ordered  tc 

go  to. 

The  second  day  after  leaving  Clear  Lake  we  struck  an- 
other lake.  We  did  not  name  it,  but  it  has  since  been 
known  as  Tule  Lake,  and  is  the  outlet  of  Lost  river,  but 
has  no  visible  outlet  itselt.  Here  we  laid  over  two  days, 
after  which  we  pulled  out  up  the  valley.  Two  days  more 
and  we  were  at  Klamath  Lake,  and  here  Col.  Elliott  es- 


ANOTHER  BAND. 


225 


tablUhed  his  headquarters  and  started  in  to  fortify  him- 
self against  the  Indians,  which  were  very  numerous  in 
this  country  at  that  time. 

jchn  Riley,  Fred  Miller,  John  Boyd,  George  Jones  and 
mysof  took  four  days’  rations  and  started  out  to  investi- 
gate the  surrounding  country  north  of  headquarters. 

The  next  afternoon  about  three  o’clock  we  saw  a band 


Tule  Lake. 


of  Indians  some  distance  away  as  they  were  passing  over 
a somewhat  uneven  country.  We  were  not  just  able  to 
tell  the  number  in  the  band,  but  thought  there  must  be 
about  twenty,  and  they  were  driving  some  loose  horses. 

We  stopped  to  consider  the  matter  as  to  what  was 
best  to  be  done.  George  Jones  said:  “Boys,  we  have 

been  out  all  summer  and  have  not  got  a single  horse  to 
pay  for  our  trouble,  and  I think  I could  fight  like  the 


226 


PLANNING  THE  AffACJlL 


devil  if  there  was  a good  band  of  horses  at  stake.”  The 
balance  of  the  crowd  seemed  to  think  likewise,  so  we 
concluded  to  follow  up  the  Indians  and  give  them  a round. 
We  started  at  once,  but  before  overtaking  them  they  had 
pitched  camp  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Klamath. 

After  it  was  quite  dark,  George  Jones  and  I crawled 
around  near  the  camp  and  counted  twenty  Indians. 

Our  intention  had  been  to  stampede  the  horses  in- 
stead of  making  an  attack  on  the  Indians,  as  we  thought 
the  number  too  great  to  tackle,  but  an  investigation  de- 
veloped the  fact  that  they  had  turned  their  horses  into  a 
little  peninsula  that  ran  out  into  the  lake,  and  had  pitched 
their  tents  so  as  to  hold  their  horses  in  there.  Riley  said 
there  was  only  one  of  two  things  to  do,  and  that  was  to 
make  the  attack  or  crawfish.  We  were  all  well  armed, 
the  other  four  having  each  a six-shooter  and  a sabre,  and 
I had  my  big  knife,  which  was  almost  as  good  as  a sabre, 
and  two  six-shooters. 

We  laid  and  watched  their  movements  until  all  turned 
in  for  the  night. 

They  were  badly  scattered,  making  it  worse  for  us 
than  if  they  had  been  in  a bunch.  We  waited  until  about 
eleven  o’clock,  when  we  thought  they  were  all  asleep,  and 
having  laid  our  plans  of  attack,  we  all  crawled  up  abreast 
to  within  a rod  or  so  of  where  some  of  them  were  lying, 
and  each  drew  his  pistol  and  sabre. 

Taking  our  pistols  in  our  left  hands  and  sabres  in  the 
right,  we  made  a rush  for  them,  intending  to  cut  the  first 
ones  down  with  our  sabres,  and  if  we  got  into  close  quar- 
ters we  could  use  both  at  the  same  time. 

In  such  cases  it  is  quite  essential  that  a scout  should 


A DESPERATE  BATTLE. 


227 


be  able  to  use  his  pistol  in  his  left  hand,  which  had  been 
part  of  their  drill  duties  before  starting  out  scouting 

As  soon  as  the  attack  was  made  some  of  the  Indians 
arose  on  their  feet,  and  we  tried  to  cut  them  down  as  fast 
as  they  arose,  but  it  was  so  dark  that  it  was  difficult  to 
distinguish  our  own  men  from  the  Indians. 

The  Indians  fought  us  with  their  tomahawks,  and  it 
was  not  long  until  we  were  all  mixed  up  together,  and  a 
person  had  to  look  close  before  striking,  for  fear  of  mak- 
ing a mistake.  After  fighting  some  time  I had  two  hand- 
to-hand  encounters,  but  was  victorious  in  both  of  them. 
Just  as  I had  finished  the  second  one  I got  a tremendous 
blow  from  behind  that  caught  me  on  the  shoulder,  and  it 
knocked  me  as  blind  as  a bat.  When  I tried  to  rise  I 
would  stagger  and  fall  like  a drunken  man.  After  mak- 
ing the  third  attempt  to  get  on  my  feet,  and  seeing  it  was 
nc  use  and  being  afraid  my  own  men  might  mistake  me 
for  an  Indian,  I laid  down  as  still  as  I could  until  the 
fight  was  ended. 

About  this  time  my  shoulder  commenced  to  pain  me 
fearfully,  and  it  was  a hard  matter  for  me  to  lie  still.  I 
could  then  see  a very  little,  but  to  me  everything  was 
still.  Just  then  I heard  George  Jones’  voice.  He  was 
asking  where  Will  was.  I did  not  hear  any  reply,  and 
a moment  later  he  hallooed  at  the  top  of  his  voice. 
It  sounded  to  me  as  though  he  was  a long  ways  off,  but 
at  the  same  time  he  was  within  four  rods  of  me.  I made 
out  that  time  to  answer  so  he  could  hear  me,  and  in  a 
moment  they  were  all  by  my  side.  Some  one  raised  me 
up,  while  another  ran  to  the  lake  and  got  his  hat  full  of 
water.  They  removed  my  clothing  sufficiently  to  exam- 


228 


SEVERELY  WOUNDED. 


W my  wound,  and  found  that  my  shoulder  blade  was 
broken  in  two  places.  When  I was  able  to  talk,  the 
boys  asked  what  they  had  better  do,  saying  they  had  the 
last  Indian  killed.  I said  if  you  are  sure  you  have  them 
all  killed,  build  a fire  and  put  out  guards  until  morning, 
and  we  will  return  to  headquarters  with  the  stock. 

George  Jones,  feeling  much  concerned  about  me  on  ac- 
count of  my  wound,  proposed  to  ride  to  headquarters  that 
night  for  the  surgeon,  but  I told  him  it  was  not  necessary, 
that  I would  be  able  to  ride  to  headquarters  the  next  day. 

I took  a sup  of  brandy,  which  we  were  never  without 
on  a trip  like  this,  and  drank  a cup  of  coffee,  after  which 
I felt  much  better,  but  could  not  move  my  left  hand  or 
shoulder  without  much  pain. 

The  next  morning  as  soon  as  it  was  light  enough  to 
see  to  scalp  an  Indian,  the  boys  took  twenty-one  scalps, 
and  we  had  fifty-two  horses,  some  of  which  were  extra- 
ordinary good  ones  of  that  class.  That  was  ten  horses 
each  and  two  over.  After  having  counted  them,  George 
Jones  said:  4 ‘I  think  Will  ought  to  have  the  two  extra 

horses,  for  he  is  the  only  one  that  got  wounded  in  the 
fight. 

The  boys  were  jubilant  over  their  victory  and  the  band 
of  horses,  but  were  very  sorry  to  have  one  of  their  com- 
rades so  badly  used  up.  After  they  had  breakfast  over, 
the  saddle  horses  were  brought  in,  my  horse  was  saddled 
for  me  and  they  assisted  me  in  getting  on  him,  or  rather 
put  me  on,  for  I was  almost  as  helpless  as  a child. 

My  shoulder  they  had  tied  up  as  best  they  could  with 
two  handkerchiefs,  and  one  of  the  boys  leading  my  horse, 
we  started  for  headquarters.  We  were  about  twenty 


ANXIOUS  TO  LEAVE. 


229 


miles  from  the  command,  but  I never  rode  fifty  miles 
that  seemed  as  far  as  that  twenty  miles  did.  When  we 
arrived  at  camp  my  shoulder  was  badly  swollen,  and  it 
took  the  surgeon  a long  time  to  get  it  set  just  to  his  no- 
tion, or,  at  least  it  seemed  so  to  me,  and  when  he  did 
finally  get  it  set  he  gave  me  something  to  put  me  to  sleep. 

However.  I was  not  able  to  ride  any  more  that  sum- 
mer. All  that  I was  able  to  do  was  to  sit  in  camp,  hear 
the  reports  of  scouts  as  they  came  in  and  give  orders. 

It  had  been  six  weeks  since  I was  hurt,  and  it  was 
getting  late  in  the  fall  and  the  weather  looking  some- 
what blustery,  I told  the  Colonel  I thought  I would  go 
back  to  San  Francisco  and  winter  there. 

Up  to  this  time  the  surgeon  had  not  allowed  me  to 
ride  on  horseback,  but  I had  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  I could  now  stand  it  to  ride  without  any  serious 
difficulty,  and  I was  anxious  to  get  back  before  win- 
ter set  in. 

When  I told  the  Colonel  my  intentions,  he  said: 
“How  in  the  name  of  God  will  you  get  to  San  Fran- 
cisco? If  you  were  well  and  able  to  ride  I could  not 
spare  an  escort  sufficient  to  guard  you  through.” 

“It  don’t  matter  about  the  escort,  I said,  “when  I 
get  ready  I will  go  if  I have  to  go  alone.” 

“Young  man,”  said  he,  “you  must  be  insane  to  even 
think  of  such  a thing.” 

“Colonel,”  I said,  “you  may  call  it  what  you  please, 
but  I mean  just  what  I say;  and  I suppose  that  as  you 
have'  been  out  all  summer,  having  no  chance  to  either 
send  or  receive  any  mail,  that  you  would  like  to  send  out 
after  that.” 


230 


MAKE  PREPARATION 


Said  he,  “I  have  no  one  to  send,  that  could  make  the 
trip  without  asking  a larger  escort  than  I could  spare.” 

I told  the  Colonel  that  I could  select  two  men  from 
his  command,  either  of  whom  I could  take  and  make  the 
trip  safely,  or  the  two  would  make  it  alone  with  perfect 
safety. 

'‘The  Colonel  replied,  “If  I could  only  think  sol 
certainly  would  ask  them  to  go;”  and  he  asked  who  the 
parties  were  to  whom  I had  reference.  I told  him  they 
were  Messrs.  Jones  and  Riley,  who  had  been  my  assist- 
ant scouts  the  past  summer. 

The  Colonel  asked  when  they  would  be  in  camp.  I 
told  him  they  had  just  returned  a few  minutes  previous. 
He  said:  “Tell  them  I will  see  them  at  your  quarters 

at  seven  o’clock  this  evening.”  I assured  him  that  they 
would  be  there,  but  up  to  this  time  I had  not  mentioned 
or  even  hinted  at  such  a thing  to  them,  but  being  desir- 
ous of  seeing  them  before  the  Colonel  had  a talk  with 
them,  I set  about  to  find  them.  I found  them  in  their 
quarters  and  told  them  of  the  proposed  meeting  and  the 
object,  and  asked  them  what  they  thought  of  it. 

George  Jones  said:  “As  far  as  I am  concerned,  I 

think  I can  make  the  trip  alone,  for  I can  see  an  Indian 
just  as  far  as  he  can  see  me,  and  just  as  quick,  and  I am 
perfectly  willing  to  take  the  chances.” 

“And  how  with  you,  Riley?”  I asked.  He  replied: 
“I  will  go  if  I can  get  permission.” 

At  seven  o’clock,  sharp,  all  hands  met  at  my  tent. 
The  Colonel  opened  the  conversation  by  saying:  “Gen- 

tlemen, our  chief  scout,  Mr.  Drannan,  has  concluded  to 
Peave  us  and  go  to  San  Francisco  to  spend  the  winter, 


TO  START  FOR 


231 


and  under  the  circumstances  I don’t  want  to  see  him  go 
alone.  Do  you  men  feel  like  accompanying  him  and 
bringing  our  mail  back  on  your  return?” 

George  Jones  said:  “I  can  only  speak  for  myself.  I 

will  accompany  him  alone  and  bring  the  mail  back  if  no 
one  else  feels  like  going.”  At  this  Riley  said  he  was  wil- 
ling to  accompany  George  on  the  trip  if  necessary. 

Col.  Elliott  straightened  up  and  said:  “Boys,  I don’t 

believe  you  realize  the  danger  you  will  necessarily  have 
to  encounter  in  making  this  trip.  Think  the  matter  over 
thoroughly  until  to-morrow  evening,  by  which  time  you 
will  be  able  to  give  me  a decided  answer;”  and  then  the 
Colonel  departed,  requesting  us  all  to  meet  him  in  his 
quarters  the  following  evening  at  seven  o’clock,  sharp. 
After  he  had  gone  George  Jones  asked  me  how  long  I 
thought  it  would  take  us  to  go  to  Sacramento.  About 
fifteen  days  was  my  estimate,  and  I was  of  the  opinion 
that  we  would  best  go  an  entirely  different  route  to  what 
we  came.  Before  leaving  my  tent  they  had  made  up 
their  minds  to  tackle  the  trip  anyway,  let  it  go  as  it 
might,  and  the  time  set  to  staft  was  ten  days  from  that. 

The  following  evening  we  all  went  to  the  Colonel’s 
tent  at  the  hour  agreed  upon.  He  asked  the  boys  as 
soon  as  they  entered  if  they  had  made  up  their  minds  to 
tackle  the  trip,  and  they  both  told  him  they  had.  He 
then  asked  me  when  I would  be  ready  to  start,  and  I told 
him  in  ten  days. 

George  Jones  then  asked  the  Colonel  what  length  of 
time  he  would  give  him  and  Riley  to  make  the  trip  in. 
“I  will  give  you  a month  and  a half,”  was  the  reply. 

Five  of  us  had  fifty- two  horses  that  we  had  captured 


232 


San  Francisco. 


from  the  Indians.  I called  the  other  four  together  and  told 
them  if  they  would  let  me  pick  six  horses  from  the  band 
they  might  have  the*  remainder.  1 This  being  agreeable, 
the  day  following  the  horses  were  driven  into  the  corral 
and  I selected  my  six.  Jones  and  Riley  put  in  a good 
portion  of  the  day  in  saddling  and  riding  them  to  see 
whether  they  were  broke  or  not,  and  we  found  them  all 
to  be  fairly  well  broken  to  ride. 

The  next  day  I told  the  Colonel  that  I was  ready  to 
resign  my  position  as  chief  of  scouts,  for  you  will  have  to 
appoint  another  man,  and  you  had  just  as  well  do  it  first 
as  last. 

“No,”  said  the  Colonel,  ‘ 'when  you  are  ready  to  start, 
I will  give  you  a voucher  for  your  pay  up  to  that  time, 
and  when  you  get  to  San  Francisco  you  can  get  your 
money.” 

We  commenced  making  preparations  to  start,  but  did 
not  let  it  be  generally  known  until  the  day  before  start- 
ing, and  then  everybody  wanted  to  write  a letter  to  send 
out,  and  by  the  time  we  were  ready  to  start  we  had  a 
pack-horse  loaded  with  mail. 

The  Colonel  sent  a long  letter  to  his  wife,  and  told 
me  a lot  of  stuff  to  tell  the  other  officers,  of  which  I did 
not  remember  one-fourth. 

Finally  we  were  rigged  up  and  ready  to  start,  but  we 
had  a hard  time  to  get  away,  for  Dick  Jones  wanted  me 
to  tell  Jim  Johnson  so  and  so.  Another  had  some  word 
to  send  to  a friend,  whose  name  I had  never  heard  be- 
fore, and  never  thought  of  after  I was  out  of  sight. 

After  shaking  hands  all  around,  and  Col.  Elliott  tell- 
ing me  a lot  of  stuff  to  tell  his  wife  and  numerous  other 


I 


A GRAND  SIGHT. 


233 


ladies,  which  he  knew  I would  not  repeat  the  half  of,  for 
he  knew  that  there  was  not  another  man  in  San  Fran- 
cisco that  hated  to  try  to  talk  to  ladies  as  much  as  I did. 
If  we  had  not  jarred  loose  and  rode  off  I suppose  we 
would  have  been  there  all  day,  and  we  would  have  had 
enough  word  to  carry  in  our  heads,  that  had  it  been 
written,  would  have  made  a book  that  Webster’s  Un- 
abridged Dictionary  would  be  small  compared  with  it, 
and  again  shaking  hands  we  waved  our  hats  at  the  many 
soldiers  standing  around  and  rode  away. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


Discovery  of  Indians  with  stolen  horses. — We  kill 
the  Indians  and  return  the  property  to  its 
owners. — Meeting  of  miners. — In  society  again. 


On  our  return  trip  we  took  the  divide  between  the 
Klamath  River  and  Yule  Lake.  I had  told  Col.  Elliott 
before  starting  that  I intended  to  pass  west  of  the  snowy 
butte  instead  of  east  of  it,  as  we  did  coming  in. 

This  butte  has  since  been  called  Shasta  Mountain,  and 
it  is  one  of  the  grandest  sights  that  ever  the  eye  of  man 
beheld.  It  flouts  the  skies  with  its  peaks  of  everlasting 
snow,  gleaming  like  a vast  opal  under  the  sunshine,  or 


234 


discover  Indians 


peeping  out  in  rainbow-tinted  glints,  from  among  the 
rifts  of  the  clouds  that  rake  along  its  sides.  Often  long 
streams  of  glittering  white  stretch  from  its  peaks,  far  out 
into  space,  and  these  are  called  ‘'snow-banners.” 

My  object  in  passing  west  of  Shasta  was  to  strike 
the  headwaters  of  the  Sacramento  and  follow  that  river 
to  the  city  of  Sacramento.  Late  in  the  evening  of 
the  fifth  day  we  struck  a beautiful  region,  since  known 
as  the  Shasta  Valley. 

While  we  were  looking  ahead  through  our  field 
glasses  and  laying  out  our  route  for  the  next  day,  we 
discovered  a great  cloud  of  dust,  which  seemed  to  be 
not  more  than  five  or  six  miles  away,  and  just  beyond 
a low  range  of  hills  that  we  could  overlook.  We  se- 
creted our  horses  and  watched  the  dust,  but  we  had 
not  watched  long  before  about  sixty  horses  came  in 
sight,  driven  by  five  Indians.  We  could  note  that  there 
were  a number  of  mules  in  the  band,  and  that  two  of  ihe 
redskins  carried  rifles. 

We  were  not  long  in  making  up  our  minds  that  this 
was  stolen  property,  and  that  they  had  done  murder  and 
had  taken  the  stock  and  were  getting  away  as  fast  as  they 
could.  Otherwise  they  would  not  have  those  rifles. 

In  those  days  Indians  knew  very  little  about  using 
guns,  and  the  mules  we  knew  did  not  belong  to  them,  for 
they  did  not  have  any  mules,  only  as  they  could  steal 
them  from  the  emigrants. 

We  watched  them  until  they  came  to  a nice  little 
stream,  where  they  stopped,  staked  their  saddle-horses 
out,  and  as  it  was  almost  night,  we  were  confident  from 
their  movements  that  they  were  going  into  camp.  Being 


WITH  STOLEN  HORSES 


235 


not  more  than  three  miles  from  where  we  were,  we  staked 
our  horses  on  the  grass,  ate  a cold  lunch,  and  it  now 
being  dark  we  started  afoot  for  the  Indian  camp. 

We  did  not  get  insight  of  the  Indians  any  more  until 
within  a quarter  of  a mile  of  their  camp. 

They  had  a little  fire  of  sagebrush  and  had  not  lain 
down  yet,  but  were  watching  the  horses  very  closely. 

They  stayed  up  until  about  eleven  o’clock,  and  every 
few  minutes  some  of  them  would  go  out  to  where  the 

The  moon 
being  full,  it 
was  a very 
bright  night, 
and  we  could 
see  well. 

Finally  the 
horses  all  got 
quiet,  and  the 
Indians,  after 
building  up  a 
little  more 
fire,  all  laid 
down  by  it  for 
a nap. 

After  they 
had  lain  there 
some  little 
time,  I told 

the  boys  now  was  our  time,  for  as  soon  as  one  of  them 
woke  up  he  would  go  out  to  the  horses  again. 


horses  were  feeding  and  look  all  around. 


Would  go  out  where  the  horses  were  feeding 
and  look  around 


236 


kill  the  Indians. 


George  Jones  requested  me  not  to  take  any  hand  in 
the  fight  for  fear  I might  get  my  shoulder  hurt  over  again, 
as  it  was  not  well  by  any  means.  I told  him  I would  not 
unless  I thought  it  really  necessary;  but  if  it  was  I would 
give  them  a shot  anyway,  just  for  luck.  I gave  George 
Jones  one  of  my  revolvers,  so  he  took  a revolver  in  each 
hand,  and  Riley  had  a revolver  in  his  left  and  his  sabre 
in  his  right  hand.  We  now  started  to  crawl  up  to  where 
the  Indians  were  no  doubt  fast  asleep. 

I crawled  up  with  the  balance,  in  case  the  boys  got 
in  close  quarters,  thinking  that  a shot  might  help  them, 
but  George  Jones  assured  me  that  by  taking  one  of  my 
revolvers  they  would  get  three  the  first  shot  and  then 
they  would  have  three  more  shots  for  the  other  two,  so 
that  before  any  of  them  got  to  their  feet  we  would  have 
them  all. 

It  being  an  unusually  bright,  moonlight  night,  we 
were  able  when  near  them,  by  the  aid  also  of  the  little 
fire  which  was  yet  burning,  to  get  their  exact  position, 
which  was  a great  help  in  making  an  attack. 

When  within  ten  feet  of  the  Indians,  Jones  and  Riley 
both  rose  to  their  feet  and  fired  three  shots,  Jones  firing 
both  pistols  at  once,  and  they  killed  two  Indians  as  they 
^ lay  and  killed  the  third  one  as  he  raised  to  his  feet. 

The  other  two  ran,  not  offering  to  fight  at  all,  but 
Jones  and  Riley  got  them  before  they  had  gone  further 
than  a few  steps. 

This  fight  occurred  about  sixteen  miles  east  of  Yreka, 
near  Little  Shasta. 

We  rebuilt  the  fire  by  throwing  some  sagebrush  on, 
3nd  in  their  outfit  we  found  two  scalps  taken  from  white 


CAPTURED  HORSES. 


237 


men,  and  which  looked  to  have  been  taken  in  the  last 
twenty-four  hours;  two  rifles,  but  no  amunition,  and  I 
don’t  think  they  would  have  known  how  to  use  them  if 
they  had  had  amunition.  They  were  armed  with  bows 
and  arrows,  and  some  had  knives. 

I stayed  and  looked  after  the  captured  horses  while 
the  other  boys  went  back  after  our  own  horses.  On  their 
return  I laid  down  and  slept  awhile,  but  the  other  boys 


They  killed  the  third  one  as  he  arose. 


did  not  lie  down  at  all  that  night,  for  there  was  not  much 
night  left  by  the  time  they  got  in  with  our  horses. 

The  following  morning,  as  soon  as  it  was  light  enough 
to  see,  we  counted  the  horses  and  found  there  were  fifty- 
five  of  them. 

After  getting  our  breakfast  we  started  back  on  the 
trail  the  Indians  had  ccme,  that  being  the  course  we 
wished  to  go.  We  traveled  hard  all  day,  and  just  at 


238 


A RESTLESS  NIGHT. 


night  we  came  to  a little  stream  running  across  the  val- 
ley, that  we  had  looked  at  through  the  glasses  the  even- 
ing before.  Here  we  went  into  camp  for  the  night,  and 
on  looking  across  the  valley  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
river  we  could  see  through  the  field  glasses  a number  of 
little  wreaths  of  smoke  curling  up  into  the  air,  and  they 
were  scattered  along  the  foothills  here  and  there  for  sev- 
eral miles. 

I knew  at  once  they  were  not  from  Indian  fires,  for  I 
could  not  see  a lodge,  and  they  were  too  badly  scattered 
to  be  an  Indian  village. 

Just  what  it  was  we  could  not  make  out,  but  we 
stopped  on  the  little  stream  that  night,  which  is  now 
called  Shasta  river.  I slept  but  very  little,  as  my  broken 
shoulder  was  commencing  to  bother  me  again  from  rid- 
ing. I was  up  and  down  all  night  long,  and  was  around 
among  the  horses  many  times. 

The  next  morning  we  were  up  and  had  our  breakfast 
and  started  very  early.  We  had  not  gone  more  than  two 
miles,  when,  on  looking  ahead,  we  saw  twelve  men  com- 
ing on  horseback.  Through  my  glasses  I saw  they  were 
white  men,  and  told  the  boys  so.  George  Jones  could 
not  believe  they  were  white  men  until  he  looked  through 
the  glass,  when  he  said:  “Well,  I’ll  be  d — d if  they 

ain’t  white  men.  ” 

We  altered  our  course  so  as  to  meet  them,  and  less 
than  a half  hour’s  ride  brought  us  face  to  face. 

There  was  a man  by  the  name  of  Wm.  McConnell 
riding  in  the  lead,  and  on  meeting  us  the  first  word  ut- 
tered by  any  of  the  party  was  by  McConnell.  He  said: 
“Where  in  the  name  of  God  did  you  get  those  horses?” 


RETURN  PROPERTY. 


239 


While  I was  telling  him  where  and  how  we  came  in  pos- 
session of  them,  George  Jones  took  the  five  Indian  scalps 
from  the  pack  and  said: 

“And  there  is  something  else  we  got  at  the  same  time 
we  got  the  horses.” 

Then  he  took  the  two  white  men’s  scalps  from  the 
pack,  also  the  two  rifles,  and  they  were  also  satisfied 
that  the  scalps  were  the  scalps  of  the  two  white  men 
who  had  been  herding  this  same  band  of  horses  and 
mules,  for  the  hair  was  similar  in  color  to  that  of  the 
two  herders.  One  of  them  had  dark  brown  hair  and 
the  other  one  had  rather  light  hair. 

From  this  company  of  men  we  learned  that  near 
us  there  was  a mining  eamp,  the  stock  belonged  to  the 
miners,  and  that  the  two  men  killed  had  been  herding 
the  horses  and  mules  about  three  miles  away  from 
camp.  This  was  a new  camp  called  Greenhorn  Gulch. 

The  herders  always  brought  the  horses  to  camp 
every  night,  but  the  last  two  nights  they  had  failed  to 
bring  the  stock  in,  and  this  man  McConnell  had  raised 
the  crowd  to  hunt  the  stock,  being  satisfied  that  the 
two  herders  were  killed  and  the  stock  driven  away  by 
the  Indians. 

After  giving  them  a brief  outline  of  our  little  fight 
with  the  Indians,  our  business  there,  etc.,  McConnell 
asked  us  how  much  the  miners  would  have  to  pay  us  for 
our  trouble.  I told  him  that  we  did  not  make  any  charge, 
but  that  if  the  miners  felt  that  it  was  worth  anything  to 
them  to  have  their  horses  brought  back,  they  could  pay 
us  just  what  they  felt  like  giving.  McConnell  said  for  us 
to  ride  back  to  camp  with  them  and  he  would  call  a 


240 


miners’  meeting. 


miners’  meeting  that  afternoon  and  state  the  case  to  the 
miners,  and  he  was  satisfied  they  would  do  what  was 
right. 

We  drove  the  stock  to  where  they  were  accustomed 
to  being  corralled  at  night  and  corralled  them,  and  made 
camp  for  the  night,  for  I was  needing  rest,  very  much,  on 
account  of  my  shoulder. 

This  man  McConnell  was  erecting  a store  building 
about  half  way  between  Greenhorn  Gulch  and  a new  dis- 
covery that  had  recently  been  made,  some  two  or  three 
miles  off. 

About  two  o’clock  Mr.  McConnell  came  to  our  camp 
and  told  us  to  come  along  with  him  to  a certain  miner’s 
cabin,  and  that  the  miners  would  all  be  there  and  we 
would  see  what  could  be  done.  When  we  got  to  the 
cabin,  sure  enough  every  miner  was  there. 

Mr.  McConnell  called  the  house  to  order,  stated  the 
object  of  the  meeting  and  made  quite  a little  speech. 
He  told  the  miners  that  we  had  brought  the  stock  home, 
told  where  and  how  we  came  in  possession  of  it,  and 
that  he,  as  well  as  eleven  other  men  that  were  present, 
had  seen  the  five  Indian  scalps,  also  two  scalps  of  white 
men  that  he  was  confident  were  the  scalps  of  the  two 
herders,  and  had  also  seen  their  two  rifles. 

After  Mr.  McConnell  had  addressed  the  crowd  in  a 
very  genteel  manner  he  set  a hat  on  the  newly  con- 
structed miners’  table  and  said:  4 ‘Now,  gentlemen,  how 

much  will  each  of  you  give?  I will  give  twenty  dollars.  ” 
At  the  same  time  he  threw  twenty  dollars  in  for  a starter. 
The  other  miners  followed  suit,  all  contributing  liberaby, 


at  San  Francisco. 


241 


and  the  amount  raised  reached  three  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars. 

After  the  money  was  counted  they  asked  us  if  we  were 
satisfied  with  that  amount. 

We  told  them  that  we  were,  and  that  if  they  had  not 
given  us  anything  it  would  have  been  all  right,  for  we  only 
considered  that  we  had  done  our  duty,  which  we  would 
expect  any  man  to  do  for  us  under  like  circumstances. 

The  morning  following,  before  starting  out  again,  we 
obtained  information  from  Mr.  McConnell  concerning  our 
trip  down  to  Sacramento  that  was  of  great  value  to  us. 
He  directed  us  by  way  of  Scott’s  Valley,  and  told  us  we 
need  not  have  any  fear  of  trouble  with  the  Indians,  which 
was  a great  relief  to  us  at  that  time. 

We  found  it  a splendid  trail,  and  made  the  trip  from 
the  mining  camp  to  Sacramento  in  nine  days.  Mr.  Mc- 
Connell thought  it  would  take  us  twelve  days,  but  having 
plenty  of  horses  along  we  could  change  when  we  liked, 
and  by  doing  so  could  make  good  time. 

The  next  day  after  arriving  at  Sacramento  we  got  our 
horses  on  pasture,  and  the  following  morning  took  the 
boat  for  San  Francisco. 

The  next  morning  after  arriving  at  San  Francisco  we 
went  to  the  Miners’  Restaurant  to  see  my  old  friend, 
Healey,  and  they  were  all  very  glad  to  see  us. 

After  breakfast  we  hired  a team  and  started  to  the 
Fort  with  our  baggage. 

They  were  all  greatly  astonished  when  we  told  them 
that  we  had  made  the  trip  alone. 

As  soon  as  I arrived  at  the  Fort  I went  to  see  the  sur- 
geon, and  he  told  me  that  my  shoulder  was  in  a dan- 


A GREAT  COMMOTION. 


242 

gerous  condition,  and  that  I would  have  to  stay  around 
the  Fort  so  that  he  could  see  me  at  least  every  other  day 
for  several  weeks. 

There  was  a great  commotion  at  the  Fort  when  the  r 
news  spread  abroad  that  we  had  arrived  from  Fort  Kla- 
math, for  every  one  that  had  a friend  away  with  Col. 
Elliott’s  command  expected  a letter,  and  we  had  to  have 
a postmaster  appointed  to  distribute  the  mail. 

During  my  stay  at  the  Fort  I made  my  home  at  Mrs. 
Elliott’s. 

While  I was  away  with  Col.  Elliott,  Jim  Beckwith 
had  been  at  the  Fort  a number  of  times,  and  each  time 
had  left  a letter  for  me  requesting  me  to  come  to  see 
him  as  soon  as  I got  back. 

After  resting  a few  days  I started  to  the  city  to 
look  Jim  up,  and  found  him  without  any  trouble.  His 
money  was  about  all  gone,  and  he  was  anxious  for  me 
to  go  to  the  mountains  with  him  on  a trapping  expe- 
dition the  coming  winter,  saying  he  was  tired  of  laying 
around  doing  nothing  but  drink  whiskey. 

We  made  arrangements  to  start  in  two  or  three 
weeks  from  that  time,  provided  my  shoulder  would  per- 
mit. Jim  agreed  to  go  to  Sacramento  when  we  were 
ready  to  start  and  get  my  horses,  and  I returned  to  the 
Fort  to  have  my  broken  shoulder  taken  care  of. 

Now,  as  I have  said  before,  I don’t  think  there  was 
ever  a young  man  that  suffered  from  bashfulness  as  I did 
during  what  time  I was  in  the  company  of  ladies. 

At  that  time  I thought  Mrs.  Elliott  was  doing  all  she 
could  to  tease  me,  but  since  I have  grown  older  and 
learned  a little  more  about  civilization,  I am  convinced 


IN  SOCIETY. 


243 


that  it  was  for  my  own  good,  thinking  that  I might  over- 
come my  timidity  to  a certain  extent  by  having  me  go  in 
society.  Nearly  every  day  while  at  the  Fort  she  would 
either  ask  me  in  the  afternoon  to  go  in  company  with 
her  to  visit  some  lady  friend,  or  would  want  me  to  stay 
at  her  house  to  receive  some  lady  company,  and  fre 
quently  I have  accompanied  her  to  a neighbor’s  house 
where  there  were  young  ladies,  and  I would  have  given 
every  horse  that  I owned  to  have  been  away.  But  Mrs. 
Elliott  had  been  almost  like  a mother  to  me,  and  I could 
not  refuse  to  go  with  her  when  she  requested  me  to  do  so. 

After  I had  been  at  the  Fort  about  two  weeks  Mrs 
Elliott  said  she  was  going  to  give  another  party,  but  I 
told  her  I had  a lawful  excuse  this  time  for  not  dancing, 
as  the  surgeon  would  not  allow  me  to  dance  on  account 
of  my  shoulder.  Among  the  balance  of  Mrs.  Elliott’s 
lady  friends  was  Lieut.  Jackson’s  wife,  who,  by  the  way, 
was  one  of  the  loveliest 
and  best  women  I have 
ever  met.  Her  husband 
had  been  ordered  the 
past  summer  out  to 
Arizona,  and  was  at 
that  time  establishing 
a new  fort,  which  was 
known  afterwards  as 
Fort  Yuma. 

Mrs.  Jackson  was  ex- 
pecting to  go  soon  to 
join  her  husband  at  port  Yuma,  and  as  I was  going  on 
to  the  waters  of  the  Gila,  trapping,  she  insisted  on  my 


She  was  going  to  give  another  party. 


244 


ANOTHER  PARTY. 


waiting  and  going  in  company  with  them.  Finally,  after 
stopping  around  the  Fort  three  weeks,  the  surgeon  told 
me  by  a certain  time,  which  was  nearly  a week,  I might 
start  out,  and  if  I was  careful  I would  be  perfectly  safe. 

I went  down  to  the  city,  and  Jim  Beckwith  and  I 
agreed  on  the  time  to  start,  after  which  I returned  to  the 
Fort. 

The  evening  before  I was  to  start,  every  army  officer 
at  the  Fort,  there  being  twenty-eight  in  number,  and 
every  lady,  married  and  single,  came  to  Mrs.  Elliott’s 
house.  When  I asked  her  what  all  this  meant,  she  said: 
“I  suppose  they  have  come  to  bid  you  good-bye.”  But 
it  was  not  long  until  I knew  the  object  of  the  meeting, 
for  some  one  in  the  crowd  sang  out:  ‘ 'Choose  partners 

for  a quadrille!”  and  in  a jiffy  there  was  a double  set  on 
the  floor,  and  the  floor  manager  said:  “All  ready.” 

The  musicians  took  their  seats,  and  the  same 
prompter  stood  there  that  prompted  for  them  the  time  I 
attended  that  other  party  of  Mrs.  Elliott’s. 

The  music  started  up,  and  I commenced  to  realize 
that  I was  attending  a party,  or  the  party  was  attending 
me,  one  of  the  two.  They  danced  nearly  all  night,  and 
had  what  they  called  a nice  time,  while  I sat  back  in  one 
corner  scared  half  to  death  for  fear  they  would  call  “la- 
dies’ choice;”  and  I knew  Mrs.  Elliott  or  some  other  lady 
was  sure  to  come  for  me,  and  as  my  shoulder  was  getting 
most  well,  I was  afraid  that  I could  not  get  clear  on  the 
plea  of  being  a cripple. 

When  the  party  broke  up,  Mrs.  Jackson  insisted  on 
my  paying  them  a visit  at  Fort  Yuma,  as  it  would  not  be 


OFF  TRAPPING. 


245 


a great  ways  from  where  I was  going  to  trap  the  coming 
winter. 

The  next  morning  when  I rode  off,  and  different  ones 
were  waving  me  adieu,  Mrs.  Elliott  told  me  to  be  sure 
and  pay  them  a visit  when  I came  to  the  city. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


Trapping  on  the  Gila. — The  Pimas  impart  a sec- 
ret.— Rescue  ^f  a white  girl. — A young  Indian 
agent* — Visit  to  Taos. — Uncle  Kit  fails  to 

RECOGNIZE  ME. 


The  same  da J that  I left  the  Fort,  Jim  Beckwith 
came  down  to  the  boat  bringing  my  horses,  twelve  in 
number,  and  after  buying  our  outfit  for  camping,  provis- 
ions, and  so  on,  we  bought  quite  a lot  of  beads,  blank- 
ets, cheap  rings  and  such  goods  as  we  could  trade  to  the 
Indians  for  furs. 

The  following  day  we  pulled  for  the  trapping  region, 
by  way  of  the  old  San  Jose  mission,  and  from  there  to 
the  old  mission  of  San  Grbriel,  thence  across  the  Mojave 
desert.  From  there  we  struck  out  for  the  mouth  of  the 
Gila  river,  and  crossed  just  where  it  empties  into  the 
Colorado.  We  then  traveled  up  what  is  known  as  Salt 


246 


WITH  PlMAS. 


river,  some  distance  from  where  we  crossed  the  Gila. 
This  was  early  in  January,  and  we  found  plenty  of  beaver 
that  were  easy  to  catch. 

No  trapping  had  been  done  in  that  region  for  several 
years.  Besides,  we  thought  at  the  time,  and  it  so  proved, 
that  we  were  entirely  out  of  the  way  of  hostile  Indians. 

Here  we  put  in  two  months  trapping,  with  splendid 
success.  Then,  as  it  was  getting  too  late  in  the  season 
to  trap,  Jim  proposed  that  we  take  our  little  stock  of 
goods,  or  a portion  of  it,  and  visit  the  Pima  tribe  of  In- 
dians, which  we  found  to  be  not  as  great  a distance  away 
as  we  had  supposed,  it  being  only  about  forty  miles  to 
their  village. 

They  all  knew  us  and  were  glad  to  see  us.  The  chief 
and  some  other  of  the  head  men  were  out  on  their  an- 
nual hunt,  and  we  did  not  get  to  see  them,  as  we  only 
stayed  two  days,  during  which  time  they  treated  us  the 
very  best  they  knew  how.  They  had  plenty  of  vegetables 
such  as  turnips,  onions,  potatoes,  sweet  potatoes,  etc. 

While  on  this  visit  a certain  young  Indian  got  to  be  a 
great  friend  to  me,  but  I am  sorry  to  say  that  I have  for- 
gotten his  name.  He  had  a sister  whose  name  was 
Nawasa,  who  also  got  to  be  a warm  friend  of  mine,  and 
I must  say,  that,  although  an  Indian,  she  was  a lady  in 
her  way,  and  I thought,  really,  that  she  was  the  best 
looking  Indian  I had  ever  seen. 

The  evening  that  we  were  to  start  back  to  our  camp, 
Nawasa  came  to  me  and  told  me  in  Spanish  that  her 
brother  wanted  to  see  me,  and  that  he  had  something  to 
tell  me.  I started  off  with  her,  and  after  we  had  gone  a 


THEY  IMPART 


247 


short  distance  I asked  her  where  her  brother  was,  and 
she  pointed  to  a bunch  of  bushes,  saying  he  was  there. 

On  n:y  arrival  at  the  spot  I asked  him  what  he  wished 
to  say  to  me.  I knew  he  had  something  private  and  im- 
portant to  say,  otherwise  he  would  not  have  called  me  to 
an  out-of-the-way  place  like  that. 

He  raised  to  his  feet  and  looked  around  to  see  if 
there  was  any  one  in  sight,  and  said  in  Spanish:  4 ‘Sit 

down  here,  me  and  my  sister  have  something  to  tell 
you.” 

He  started  in  by  saying  that  the  Apaches  were  very 
bad  Indians,  and  that  they  had  killed  many  of  my 
friends;  which  showed  that  he  considered  all  white 
people  my  friends. 

“Six  or  seven  years  ago,”  he  continued,  “they  killed 
a man,  his  wife,  and  two  boys,  and  took  two  girls  priso- 
ners. A long  time  ago  the  smallest  girl  died  and  the 
big  girl  buried  her.” 

At  this,  Nawasa  spoke  and  said:  “Many  times  I 

have  gone  with  her  to  the  village  and  heard  her  sing 
a pretty  song,  but  I could  not  understand  a word  of*  it.” 

I asked  if  this  girl  was  living  yet. 

Nawasa  said:  “Yes,  I see  her  every  few  days.” 

I asked  her  what  size  the  girl  was,  and  from  what 
1 could  learn  she  was  almost  grown. 

I asked  her  if  the  girl  was  satisfied,  and  she  thought 
she  was  not,  saying  she  was  held  a prisoner  and  had 
to  do  the  work  for  the  Indian  families,  or  lodges,  as  she 
termed  them.  She  said  the  work  consisted  of  getting  the 
wood  and  water,  and  whatever  little  cooking  was  to  be 
done. 


248 


A SECRET. 


The  reader  will  understand  that  while  the  Apaches 
were  hostile  toward  the  whites,  and  the  Pimas  were  not, 
yet  the  two  tribes  were  always  on  peacable  terms.  But 
I could  see  at  a glance  that  those  two  Indians  felt  a deep 
interest  in  that  white  girl.  I asked  Nawasa  how  far  it 
was  to  where  the  white  girl  was.  After  studying  awhile, 
she  said  it  was  about  six  hours,  meaning  six  hours’  ride. 

I asked  her  when  she  would  see  the  girl  again,  and 
she  made  me  understand  that  if  it  would  please  me,  or  be 
of  any  benefit  to  the  girl,  she  could  see  her  most  any  day, 
saying  that  she  went  near  the  village  to  gather  huckle- 
berries, this  being  the  time  of  year  the  red  huckleberries 
are  ripe  in  this  country. 

I told  them  that  I would  come  back  in  four  days,  and 
then  I would  go  with  them  to  that  place  to  gather  huck- 
leberries. 

I wanted  to  look  over  the  ground  before  laying  my 
plans  for  taking  the  girl,  provided  she  wished  to  leave 
the  Indians. 

This  ended  the  conversation,  so  we  went  back  to 
carrfp,  where  I found  Jim  Beckwith  and  a crowd  of  In- 
dians joking,  smoking  and  having  a good  time  generally, 
for.  as  I have  said  before,  this  was  the  most  sociable 
tribe  of  Indians  that  I ever  saw. 

On  our  arrival  at  camp,  Jim  asked  me  in  Spanish 
where  I had  been,  and  when  he  saw  the  Indian  girl,  said: 
'‘Oh,  I see;  you  have  been  off  courting;”  and  then  he  and 
the  Indians  had  a laugh  at  my  expense. 

I did  not  say  anything  to  Jim  about  what  I had  heard 
until  the  next  day. 

We  started  early  in  order  to  make  the  trip  in  one 


PLAN  TO  RESCUE 


249 


day.  I told  him  the  story  just  as  I had  it  from  the  two 
Indians,  and  told  him  that  I was  going  to  try  to  get  the 
girl  away  from  the  Apaches  if  she  wanted  to  leave  them. 

I rode  along  some  distance,  apparently  in  a deep 
study,  and  he  finally  turned  to  me  and  said: 

4 ‘I  think  you  had  better  let  that  gal  alone,  for  them 
Apaches  is  the  wust  Injuns  in  the  hull  country.  If  you 
make  the  attempt  and  they  ever  git  on  your  track,  they’ll 
run  you  down  in  spite  o’  you.” 

To  the  readers  of  this  book  I will  say  I never  was 
more  astonished  in  my  life,  than  I was  to  hear  Jim  Beck- 
with talk  as  he  did.  In  all  the  time  that  I had  been  with 
him,  this  was  the  first  time  I had  ever  seen  the  slightest 
indication  of  his  showing  the  white  feather,  as  we  termed 
it.  It  seemed  to  me  he  had  lost  all  his  nerve. 

I said:  “Jim,  my  mind  is  made  up;  if  that  white  girl 

is  dissatisfied  and  wants  to  leave  the  Indians,  I am  going 
to  make  the  attempt,  and  trust  to  luck  for  the  balance.” 
From  that  time  until  the  day  I was  to  go  back  to  the 
village,  he  tried  in  every  way  he  could  think  of  to  per- 
suade me  not  to  make  the  attempt,  but  I told  him  there 
was  no  use  talking,  that  I looked  upon  it  as  being  my 
duty,  knowing  that  the  girl  was  a slave  to  those  Indians. 

On  the  day  appointed  I saddled  Mexico  and  started 
for  the  Pima  village.  I met  the  two  young  Indians  about 
two  miles  from  the  village,  where  they  had  come  to  meet 
me,  and  they  were  both  riding  one  horse,  Nawasa  riding 
behind  her  brother.  When  I met  them  she  jumped  off 
from  behind  her  brother  and  said  she  wanted  to  try  my 
horse  to  see  how  he  rode,  and  she  got  on  Mexico  behind 
me  and  rode  to  camp. 


captive  white  girl 


2 SO 

I stayed  at  the  village  that  night,  and  the  next  morn- 
ing the  three  of  us  started  out  to  gather  huckleberries. 

After  we  were  on  the  ground  and  were  busying  our- 
selves gathering  berries,  Nawasa  said: 

“If  you  will  go  on  that  little  hill” — pointing  to  a hill 
near  by — “at  noon  to-morrow,  I will  bring  the  white  girl 
here  to  this  tree,  and  you  can  see  her  for  yourself.” 

She  made  me  promise  her  not  to  go  any  nearer  the 
Apache  camp  at  this  time,  for,  said  she,  “If  they  suspect 
anything  wrong,  the  white  girl  will  be  traded  off  to  the 
Indians  in  Mexico  for  a slave.” 

After  making  arrangements  to  meet  the  next  day, 
Nawasa  rode  off  toward  the  Apache  town,  and  her  brother 
and  I rode  back  to  the  Pima  village. 

The  following  day  I rode  back  in  company  with  my 
young  Indian  friend  to  within  two  or  three  miles  of  the 
berry-patch,  where  we  separated,  and  I rode  out  to  the 
ridge  that  Nawasa  had  pointed  out  to  me  the  day  pre- 
vious. 

I saw  them  standing  by  the  tree,  as  she  had  said.  I 
put  my  glass  to  my  eyes  and  saw  sure  enough  that  it  was 
a white  girl  with  Nawasa,  and  that  she  looked  very  sad. 

I then  rode  back  to  the  Pima  village.  That  same 
night  the  two  young  Indians  both  came  home,  but  they 
vould  not  say  a word  while  at  camp.  It  seemed  that  they 
would  not  under  any  consideration  have  let  any  of  the 
other  Indians  know  what  they  were  up  to,  so  the  next 
morning  when  I started  home  they  took  their  horses  and 
rode  with  me  about  two  miles. 

After  we  had  got  away  from  the  village  so  we  distance, 
I asked  Nawasa  if  the  white  girl  still  wanted  to  leave  the 


from  Apaches. 


251 


Apaches,  and  she  said,  4 'Yes,  she  would  like  very  much 
to  leave  them,  but  was  afraid;  as  the  Apaches  had  told 
her  that  if  she 
ever  tried  to  get 
away  and  was 
caught,  she 
would  be  sold 
to  the  Mexican 
Indians  as  a 
slave,  and  there 
she  would  have 
to  work  in  the 
fields,  which 
would  be  much 
harder  work 
than  she  has  to 
do  where  she  is.” 

I told  Na- 
wasa  that  if  she 
would  bring  the 
white  girl  out  on 
the  same  ridge 
that  I had  rode 
on,  I would  give 
her  five  strings 
of  beads,  and  I 
would  give  her 

one  string  to  give  to  the  white  girl.  She  promised  that 
she  would  try,  and  that  she  would  do  her  best. 

I agreed  to  be  back  in  eight  days  and  see  what  ar- 
rangements had  been  made,  and  to  let  her  know  when  J 
would  be  ready  to  take  the  girL 


I saw  them  standing  by  the  tree. 


2$2 


DISCOURAGEMENT. 


When  I got  back,  Jim  asked  me  what  I would  do  with 
the  girl  if  I was  successful  in  getting  her  away  from  the 
Indians.  I told  him  I would  take  her  to  Fort  Yuma. 

“And  what  in  the  name  of  God  will  you  do  with  her 
when  you  get  to  Fort  Yuma?”  said  Jim. 

I told  him  that  if  Mrs.  Jackson  was  there,  which  I 
was  confident  she  was,  that  I would  leave  the  girl  with 
her,  and  that  I had  no  fears  but  that  the  girl  would  be 
taken  care  of  in  the  very  best  manner  that  Mrs.  Jackson 
could  provide  for  her. 

Jim  said:  “If  the  girl  is  satisfied  with  the  Injuns, 

why  don’t  you  let  her  alone?  She  don’t  know  anything 
but  Injun  ways,  and  she  never  will.” 

I told  him  that  my  mind  was  thoroughly  made  up, 
and  I would  rescue  that  girl  from  the  Indians  or  lose  my 
scalp  in  the  attempt.  And  now  don’t  say  anymore  about 
it,  for  it  will  do  no  good. 

He  said:  “Go  ahead  and  do  as  you  please,  as  you 

have  always  got  to  have  your  own  way  about  things,  any- 
how. ” 

I said:  “Yes,  Jim;  when  I know  I am  right,  I pro- 

pose to  have  my  own  way.” 

This  ended  the  conversation,  for  the  time  being,  at 
least,  for  Jim  saw  that  I was  determined  in  the  matter, 
and  he  said  no  more  about  it. 

On  the  day  appointed  I took  my  two  favorite  saddle- 
horses  and  rode  over  to  the  Pima  village. 

I started  very  early  and  arrived  at  the  village  about 
four  o’clock  in  the  afternoon. 

After  knocking  about  the  village  for  a little  while,  my 
two  Indian  friends  proposed  that  we  take  a ride. 


CLEVER  SCHEMING 


253 


Of  course  I knew  the  horseback  ride  was  only  a ruse 
to  get  a chance  to  tell  me  the  plans  laid  by  herself  and 
the  white  girl  for  her  escape,  although  she  said  that  she 
just  wanted  to  try  my  Pinto  horse  to  see  how  he  would 
ride. 

And  here  I will  say  that  I don’t  believe  there  was  an- 
other Indian  in  that  village  who  had  any  idea  of  the 
scheme  that  was  being  worked  up  between  rnyself  and 
those  two  Indians,  for  they  would  never  say  a word  to 
me  while  within  earshot  of  any  of  the  tribe. 

The  other  Indians  thought  I was  courting  Nawasa, 
and  it  was  always  the  custom  among  those  Indians  for  a 
young  couple  never  to  ride  out  alone. 

It  has  always  been  a mystery  to  me  why  those  young 
Pimas  took  such  a deep  interest  in  the  white  girl,  for  they 
were  merely  untutored  Indians,  having  only  a few  years 
since  seen  the  first  white  man,  and  had  not  seen  many 
since  then. 

But  those  two  young  Indians  seemed  to  be  as  kind- 
hearted  persons  as  I ever  met,  and  were  the  most  intel- 
ligent Indians  I ever  saw,  who  were  not  educated,  and  I 
often  regretted  that  I did  not  take  them  to  some  school 
and  have  them  educated,  for  it  would  have  been  a great 
benefit  to  the  people  on  the  plains  at  that  time. 

But  to  go  on  with  my  story.  We  took  our  ride,  and 
as  soon  as  we  were  well  away  from  the  village  Nawasa 
told  me  that  she  had  seen  the  white  girl  and  completed 
plans  for  her  escape.  She  said  that  after  making  ar- 
rangements with  the  girl,  she — Nawasa — had  not  gone  to 
the  Apache  village,  but  had  met  the  girl  at  the  huckle- 
berry patch  most  every  day. 


2$4 


BY  TWO  YOUNG 


She  said:  “The  girl  will  come  to  the  berry-patch 

every  day  until  we  go  there  for  her,  provided  the  Indians 
with  whom  she  lived  would  let  her  go;  that  she  might  be 
there  to-morrow,  and  she  might  not  come  till  the  next 
day.  The  girl  is  willing  to  go  with  you,  and  we  will  go 
to  the  berry-patch  to-morrow  and  wait  till  she  comes.” 
The  next  morning  the  three  of  us  started  out  osten- 
sibly to  pick  berries. 

After  we  were  out  of  sight  of  the  village  the  young 
Indian  man  took  my  Pinto  horse  and  started  in  the  di- 
rection of  Fort  Yuma,  it  being  understood  that  he  was  to 
stop  about  half  way  between  Fort  Yuma  and  the  place 
where  we  would  meet  the  girl.  He  was  to  wait  there 
until  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  and  if  we  were  not 
there  by  that  time  he  was  to  return  to  camp. 

Nawasa  and  I went  on  to  the  berry-patch,  but  the 
white  girl  was  not  there.  We  had  not  waited  long,  how- 
ever, until  Nawasa  looked  up  and  said  in  Spanish, 
“There  she  comes  now.” 

I looked  and  saw  the  girl  running.  She  did  not  dis- 
cover us  until  she  was  within  about  fifty  yards  of  us,  and 
when  she  saw  us  she  stopped  very  suddenly  and  hung  her 
head. 

I did  not  know  at  the  time  whether  she  was  ashamed 
or  whether  she  had  been  with  the  Indians  so  long  that 
she  was  really  afraid  of  a white  person;  but  Nawasa  was 
not  long  in  getting  to  her,  and  the  girl  would  look  at  me 
and  then  look  back,  as  though  she  had  a notion  to  go 
back  to  the  Apache  village. 

When  I rode  up  to  where  she  was,  she  dropped  her 
head  and  would  not  look  up  for  some  little  time. 


She  dropped  her  head  and  would  not  look  up  for  some  little  time. 

Page  254 


Pima  Indians. 


255 


I saw  that  her  face  was  badly  tattooed,  but  her  body 
was  not,  and  as  she  stood  there,  apparently  undecided 
what  to  do,  she  was  to  me  an  object  of  pity,  and  her  de- 
jected countenance  would,  I think,  have  appealed 
strongly  to  even  Jim  Bridger’s  heart. 

I told  Nawasa  to  help  her  on  behind  me,  for  wc 
must  be  off  quick.  Nawasa  said:  “She  don’t  want  to 

go.”  I then  spoke  to  the  white  girl  in  Spanish,  and 
said:  “My  dear  girl,  why  do  you  hesitate?  Get  up 

behind  me  and  I will  take  you  to  your  own  people. 
Why  do  you  want  to  stay  here  and  be  a slave  for  those 
Indians?” 

I wish  I could  give  in  detail  the  persuasive  lan- 
guage used  by  that  untutored  but  kind-hearted  Indian 
girl,  to  get  her  to  leave  the  Apaches.  She  would  tell, 
her  that  if  she  would  only  go  with  me  that  I would 
take  her  to  her  own  people,  and  would  tell  her  how 
happy  she  would  be  with  them. 

After  a great  deal  of  persuasion,  as  I sat  on  my  horse 
I reached  down  and  took  her  by  one  arm  and  told  the 
Indian  girl  to  help  her  up  behind  me.  She  took  her  by 
the  foot  and  helped  her  on  my  horse,  and  mounting  her 
own  horse  we  flew  out  of  that  section  about  as  fast  as  our 
horses  were  able  to  carry  us. 

I was  riding  Mexico,  and  he  was  one  of  the  swiftest 
horses  in  that  country,  and  he  had  great  endurance,  also. 

We  rode  some  distance  before  I said  anything  to  the 
girl,  though  Nawasa  had  kept  along  at  our  side,  talking 
to  her  all  the  time  to  keep  her  spirits  up.  Finally  I 
spoke  to  her  in  the  English  language,  but  it  was  some 


256 


THE  ESCAPE. 


time  before  I could  get  her  to  utter  a word;  I don’t  know 
whether  it  was  through  fear  or  bashfulness. 

Four  miles’  ride  brought  us  out  of  the  timber  into  an 
open  prairie,  with  low  hills  covered  with  bunch-grass,  and 
here  and  there  a bunch  of  prickly  pears,  so  rank  that  one 
dared  not  attempt  to  ride  through  them.  There  were 
little  mountain  streams  running  through  the  country,  with 


.10  kind  of  timber  but  willows,  strewn  here  and  there 
along  the  banks. 

On  we  went,  over  the  hills  and  across  the  Valleys, 
putting  our  horses  down  to  what  they  could  stand  and  at 
the  same  time  keeping  a sharp  lookout  behind  to  see  if 
the  Indians  were  trailing  us. 


CHANGE  SADDLE. 


257 


Our  course  for  the  first  twenty  miles,  to  where  we  met 
the  young  Indian,  was  a little  north  of  west,  and  from 
there  almost  due  west. 

About  two  o’clock  we  arrived  at  the  point  where  we 
were  to  meet  the  young  Indian,  and  found  him  there, 
waiting. 

We  dismounted,  and  I was  not  long  in  changing  my 
saddle  from  Mexico  to  my  Pinto  horse.  This  horse  would 
weigh  nearly  eleven  hundred  pounds,  and  had  good  life 
and  splendid  bottom. 

By  this  time  the  white  girl  was  beginning  to  talk  some. 

After  having  my  saddle  changed  and  on  my  horse,  the 
Indian  girl  told  her  she  would  go  no  farther  with  us. 
She  told  Nawasa  that  she  was  afraid  to  go  with  me,  as 
she  was  afraid  that  I would  take  her  to  Mexico  and  sell 
her  for  a slave,  where  she  would  have  to  work  in  the 
fields.  But  Nawasa  assured  her  there  was  no  danger, 
saying:  “Esta  umbra  mooly  ah-me-go,”  meaning,  “This 
man  is  a great  friend  of  mine;”  and  she  again  told  her 
not  to  be  afraid,  for  I would  take  her  to  her  own  people. 

This  seemed  to  give  her  some  encouragement. 

After  the  young  Indian  had  shown  me  the  direction 
to  Fort  Yuma,  by  landmarks,  etc.,  I asked  him  how  far 
it  was. 

He  stepped  out  by  the  side  of  my  horse,  and  after 
taking  a good  look  at  him,  said  in  Spanish:  “About 

three  hours,  or  perhaps  three  and  a half.”  I then  told 
Nawasa  to  help  the  girl  up  again,  and  she  did  so. 

When  we  were  about  to  start,  the  two  Indians  came 
up  to  us  and  said:  “Adios  anlyose,”  which  means, 


2$Z 


A CLOUDED  MEMORY. 


‘ 'Good-bye,  my  friend at  the  same  time  shaking  hands 
with  us  both. 

After  riding  a short  distance  I commenced  talking  to 
her  in  our  own  language. 

It  seemed  that  she  had  almost  forgotten  English,  and 
when  she  would  try  to  talk  it  she  could  not  join  the  words 
together  so  as  to  make  much  sense  of  it.  It  was  hard  to 
understand  her,  but  between  English  and  Spanish  to- 
gether she  could  manage  to  talk  so  that  I was  able  to  un- 
derstand her.  However,  her  English  seemed  to  improve 
by  degrees,  and  I asked  her  if  she  would  not  be  glad  to 
get  back  to  her  own  people,  so  they  could  dress  her  up 
and  make  a lady  of  her. 

I do  not  believe  that  the  poor  girl  had  really  thought 
of  or  realized  her  nude  condition. 

She  said:  “No,  I can  never  be  a white  girl,”  and  at 

the  same  time  commenced  crying,  and  said  in  broken 
Enghish,  “Now  I remember  seeing  my  mother  dressed  all 
nice,  and  plenty  more  women  all  dressed  nice.”  It 
seemed  after  talking  to  her  in  her  own  language  a short 
time  she  could  call  back  to  memory  things  that  she  had 
forgotten  altogether. 

I asked  her  how  long  since  she  was  taken  by  the 
Indians.  She  had  to  study  some  time  before  she  could 
answer,  but  finally  in  broken  English,  intermingled  with 
Spanish,  she  said  she  thought  seven  years. 

I asked  if  she  was  taken  alone.  She  said,  no,  she  had 
a little  sister  taken  at  the  same  time  she  was.  I asked 
her  where  the  little  sister  was,  and  she  replied  that  she 
had  died,  and  she  thought  she  had  been  dead  about  three 
years. 


Navajo  Church,  near  Fort  Wingate,  New  Mexico. 


I 


I 


ARRIVE  AT  FORT. 


259 


I asked  her  if  the  Indians  had  killed  her  father  and 
mother.  She  said:  “Yes,  and  my  little  brother,  too; 

and  burned  our  wagon  and  all  that  was  in  it.” 

Then  I said  to  her:  “I  don’t  see  how  you  can  love 

those  Indians  who  had  killed  your  father,  mother  and 
brother.”  She  replied  that  she  had  no  one  else  to  love. 

I then  said  to  her,  “You  will  soon  be  among  friends, 
for  I am  taking  you  to  a woman  that  will  be  as  good  to 
you  as  your  own  mother  was,  ” and  at  that  moment  we  hove 
in  sight  of  the  Fort.  I pointed  to  the  Fort,  and  told  her 
there  was  where  the  woman  lived  that  I was  taking  her  to. 

We  were  now  safe  from  an  attack  from  the  Apaches, 
and  only  a few  minutes  later  I drew  rein  at  Fort  Yuma. 

I first  rode  up  to  the  guard,  whose  beat  was  in  front 
of  the  Commander’s  tent,  and  asked  where  Lieut.  Jack- 
son’s quarters  were.  He  pointed  to  a tent  not  far  from 
where  we  then  were,  saying:  “That  is  his  tent,  and  his 

wife  is  there,  too.” 

As  I rode  to  the  Lieutenant’s  quarters,  all  eyes  were 
turned  in  our  direction.  Mrs.  Jackson  came  to  the  door 
of  the  tent  and  recognized  me  at  once,  and  her  first  words 
were:  “Chief,  in  the  name  of  common  sense,  where  are 

you  from,  and  who  is  this  you  have  with  you?” 

I said:  “Mrs.  Jackson,  this  is  a girl  I rescued  from 

the  Indians.  She  has  no  parents  and  no  relatives,  that 
she  knows  of,  and  I have  brought  her  to  you,  thinking 
you  would  be  a friend  to  her.” 

The  reply  of  that  noble  woman  was,  “I  will,  with  all 
my  heart,”  and  at  that  she  assisted  the  girl  in  getting  off 
the  horse  and  led  her  into  her  own  tent. 

By  this  time  Lieut.  Jackson  and  all  the  officers  of  the 


26o 


INTRODUCTIONS. 


Fort  were  there,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  Lieutenant 
would  never  quit  shaking  my  hand,  and  when  he  went  to 

introduce  me  to 
the  other  offi- 
cers who  were 
present,  laugh- 
ingly said. 
“What  shall 
| I call  you?  I 
have  known  you 
as  the  ‘Boy 
Scout,’  also  as 
the  ‘Chief  of 
Scouts.  ’ I have 
known  you 
when  you  were 
“Who  is  this  you  have  with  you?”  giving  lessons 

in  hunting,  and 

now  you  have  come  in  from  a hostile  Indian  country  with 
a white  girl  riding  behind  you.  What  shall  I call  you?” 
I said:  “Lieutenant,  call  me  Will  Drannan,  the 

trapper,  for  I am  now  engaged  in  that  business.” 

“Yes,  I see  you  are;”  responded  the  Lieutenant  with 
a hearty  laugh,  ‘ ‘and  I see  you  have  had  splendid  success 
in  your  new  enterprise.”  He  then  asked  me  if  I had 
trapped  the  girl. 

I told  him  that  I did  not  trap  her,  but  that  I got  her 
away  just  the  same. 

The  Lieutenant  then  introduced  me  to  the  officers, 
and  had  the  orderly  take  charge  of  my  horses.  I was 
never  kept  more  busy  in  my  life  answering  questions  than 


Olive  Oatman. 


261 


I was  for  the  next  two  hours,  relative  to  the  girl  and  my 
plan  of  rescuing  her. 

Among  the  officers  was  a captain  by  the  name  of  Asa 
Moore,  who  had  heard  all  about  this  massacre  only  a short 
time  after  it  occurred,  and  he  said  he  thought  there  were 
some  of  the  relatives  living  somewhere  in  California,  but 
he  did  not  know  just  what  part  of  the  state. 

I had  forgotten  to  say  that  on  our  way  to  the  Fort  I 
asked  her  name.  It  seemed  at  first  that  she  had  forgotten 
it,  but  after  studying  some  little  time  she  tried  to  speak 
the  name,  which  at  that  time  I understood  to  be  Otus,  but 
I have  learned  since  that  her  name  was  Olive  Oatman. 
She  did  not  seem  to  remember  her  given  name.  The 
Indians  had  a name  for  her,  but  I have  forgotten  what  it 
was. 

Lieut.  Jackson  invited  us  into  his  tent,  but  when  we 
got  to  the  door  it  was  barred. 

Mrs.  Jackson  asked  us  to  wait  a few  minutes  until  she. 
got  some  clothes  on  Will’s  girl. 

A few  minutes  later,  when  we  were  called  into  sup- 
per, Mrs.  Jackson  had  washed  the  girl  and  had  her  dressed 
in  calico. 

Mrs.  Jackson  told  us  that  after  she  got  her  dressed, 
the  girl  sat  down  and  wept  bitterly  and  said  she  did  not 
know  how  to  wear  such  clothing. 

I remained  at  the  Fort  two  days,  and 'I  must  say  that 
this  girl  improved  both  in  talking  and  in  manners  during 
the  time  I was  there  far  beyond  our  expectations. 

When  she  would  appear  down-hearted  .or  discouraged 
Mrs.  Jackson  would  talk  to  her  in  such  a kind  and  moth- 


262 


A RECOMMENDATION. 


erly  manner  that  the  girl  would  cheer  up  at  once  and 
would  be  anxious  to  try  to  make  something  of  herself. 

After  spending  two  days  at  the  Fort,  and  knowing 
that  Jim  Beckwith  would  be  uneasy  about  me,  I com- 
menced making  preparations  to  return. 

Mrs.  Jackson  promised  me  that  she  would  give  the 
girl  the  very  best  care  possible  while  she  remained  with 
her,  and  if  she  could  hear  of  any  of  her  relatives  she  would 
see  that  she  got  to  them  safely. 

With  this  understanding  I left  the  girl  with  Mrs. 
Jackson,  but  before  I was  ready  to  start  the  Lieutenant 
came  to  me  and  asked  if  I did  not  want  a job  of  scouting. 
I told  him  that  I did  not  at  present,  that  I was  going  to 
Santa  Fe  and  did  not  know  when  I would  return  again. 

He  then  handed  me  a letter  of  recommendation,  say- 
ing, ‘‘If  you  ever  happen  to  want  a position  scouting, 
just  show  this  letter  and  it  will  be  of  some  benefit  to 
you,”  and  he  assured  me  that  if  at  any  time  he  could 
assist  me  in  any  manner  he  would  cheerfully  do  so. 

When  I was  ready  to  start,  Miss  Oatman  asked  Mrs. 
Jackson  what  she  should  say  to  me.  Mrs.  Jackson  told 
her  to  tell  me  good-bye,  and  tell  me  that  she  was  very 
thankful  to  me  for  all  I had  done  for  her.  But  the  poor 
girl  could  not  remember  it  all.  She  could  only  remem- 
ber the  words  “Good-bye,  I thank  you,”  at  the  same  time 
shaking  hands  with  me. 

This  was  the  last  I ever  saw  of  the  girl,  but  have 
heard  various  reports  concerning  her  since.  I have  been 
told  that  Mrs.  Jackson  raised  money  at  the  Fort  to  send 
her  to  San  Francisco  to  have  the  tattoo  marks  removed 
from  her  face  by  the  celebrated  Dr.  Fuller  of  that  city, 


Zuni  Cooking  Place,  New  Mexico. 


BACK  WITH  PlMAS. 


263 


but  they  having  been  formed  with  vegetable  matter,  he 
was  unable  to  remove  them.  I was  also  informed  that 
she  was  afterwards  sent  to  New  York  for  the  same  pur- 
pose, but  with  no  better  success. 

Only  a short  time  ago,  since  coming  to  Idaho,  I heard 
that  she  had  really  found  some  of  her  relatives  some- 
where in  the  state  of  Oregon,  where  she  remained  and 
raised  a family;  while  a still  later  report  is  that  she  is 
married  to  a rich  merchant  and  is  living  somewhere  in 
the  state  of  New  York. 

I have  often  thought  of  this  poor  girl  since,  and  it  has 
always  been  a question  in  my  mind  whether  I did  right 
in  taking  her  away  from  the  Indians  after  she  had  been 
with  them  so  long;  but  if  I did  do  right,  and  she  or  any 
of  her  relatives  should  by  chance  see  this  work  and 
glance  over  its  pages,  I wish  to  say  that  to  that  kind- 
hearted  Indian  girl  of  the  Pima  tribe,  Nawasa  by  name, 
and  her  brother  belong  the  the  praise  of  rescuing  Olive 
Oatman  from  the  Apache  Indians. 

In  the  first  place,  had  it  not  been  for  her  and  her 
brother,  I would  never  have  known  of  the  girl,  and  even 
after  I knew  she  was  there,  I could  not  have  done  any- 
thing without  Nawasa’s  assistance,  for  she  could  not  have 
worked  more  faithfully  and  earnestly  if  there  had  been  a 
thousand  dollars  in  the  operation  for  her. 

On  my  return  trip  I rode  the  first  day  to  the  Pima 
village  and  remained  there  that  night. 

I hired  my  young  Indian  friend  to  go  among  the 
Apaches  and  trade  beads  for  furs,  and  he  went  home  with 
me. 

Nawasa  was  very  anxious  to  know  how  I got  through 


264 


ARRIVE  AT  C &MP. 


with  the  girl,  but  did  not  dare  say  anything  while  in 
camp;  so  the  next  morning  when  her  brother  and  I were 
leaving  she  caught  a horse  and  rode  with  us  some  dis- 
tance. As  soon  as  we  were  out  of  hearing  of  the  other 
Indians,  she  and  her  brother  commenced  asking  all  sorts 
of  questions  concerning  the  girl;  whether  I thought  she 
would  be  happy  with  her  own  people  or  not. 

Those  Indians  had  learned  in  some  way  that  some- 
where, a long  distance  away,  the  white  people  had  great 
villages,  and  Nawasa  asked  if  I thought  the  white  girl 
would  be  taken  to  the  large  cities. 

The  young  Indian  and  I arrived  at  our  camp  about 
four  o’clock  that  afternoon  and  found  Jim  Beckwith  in  a 
splendid  humor,  for  he  was  glad  to  see  me.  He  had 
given  up  all  hope  of  ever  seeing  me  again,  for  he  thought 
the  Apaches  had  followed  me  up  and  killed  me.  I told 
him  what  I had  brought  the  young  Indian  for,  and  he  was 
well  pleased  with  the  arrangement. 

We  fitted  him  out  with  beads  that  cost  us  twenty  dol- 
lars, and  tin  pans  and  blankets,  agreeing  to  come  to  his 
village  in  two  weeks  for  our  furs. 

When  the  two  weeks  were  up  we  took  our  pack*  horses 
and  went  to  the  village,  and  to  our  surprise  he  had  traded 
off  the  beads  and  blankets  to  a much  better  advantage 
than  we  could  have  done  ourselves. 

For  this  favor  we  gave  him  in  compensation  two  pairs 
of  blankets,  four  brass  finger  rings  and  four  strings  of 
beads;  and  the  young  fellow  thought  he  had  been  well 
treated  for  his  trouble. 

It  was  now  getting  late  in  the  season,  and  after  buy- 
ing all  the  furs  the  Pima  tribe  had  we  commenced  making 


Pueblo,  New  Mexico. 


at  Kit  Carson’s  home. 


265 


preparations  to  pull  out  for  Taos,  as  we  had  about  all  the 
furs  we  could  pack  on  our  horses  to  advantage,  having 
fourteen  pack-horses  in  all. 

We  packed  up  and  started,  and  made  the  trip  without 
anything  of  consequence  happening  on  the  way.  We 
did  not  see  any  hostile  Indians  and  had  very  good  suc- 
cess, only  losing  one  pack  and  horse  while  crossing  a 
little  stream,  the  name  of  which  I have  forgotten;  and 
arrived  at  Taos  in  the  latter  part  of  June. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  we  rode  up  to 
Uncle  Kit  Carson’s  home.  He  and  his  wife  and  little 
child  were  out  on  the  porch,  and  as  soon  as  we  rode 
up,  both  recognized  Jim  Beckwith,  but  neither  of  them 
knew  me,  for  when  they  had  seen  me  last  I was  al- 
most a beardless  boy,  and  now  I had  quite  a crop  of 
beard  and  was  a man  of  twenty-five  years  of  age. 

“Hello,  Jim!”  were  Uncle  Kit’s  first  words,  and  he 
and  his  wife  came  out  to  the  gate  to  shake  hands  with 
him. 

“Well,  how  are  you,  anyhow;  and  how  have  you  been 
since  you  left,  and  who  is  this  you  have  with  you?” 
said  Uncle  Kit,  the  last  in  a low  tone  of  voice. 

I had  dismounted  some  yards  distant,  and  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  pack-horse  from  them.  Jim  told  Uncle 
Kit  that  I was  a discouraged  miner  that  he  had  picked  up 
ln  California,  saying:  “He  don’t  amount  to  very  much, 

but  I needed  some  one  for  company  and  to  help  me 
through  with  the  pack-train,  so  I brought  him  along.” 

By  this  time  I had  made  my  way  through  the  bunch 
of  pack-horses  and  walked  up  to  Uncle  Kit  and  spoke  to 
him,  and  I think  I got  the  worst  shaking  up  that  I had 


266 


at  Bent’s  Fort. 


had  for  a long  time,  and  I don’t  think  there  ever  was  a 
father  more  pleased  to  see  his  son  return  than  Uncle  Kit 
was  to  see  me. 

Our  horses  were  turned  over  to  the  hired  man,  who 
took  care  of  them,  and  the  next  two  days  were  spent  in 
visiting  Uncle  Kit  and  his  wife.  Of  course  I had  to  tell 
them  of  the  hardships  I had  undergone  during  my  ab- 
sence from  home;  my  adventures,  narrow  escapes,  etc. 

I learned  that  Mr.  Hughes  had  died  during  my  ab- 
sence; I also  learned  that  Johnnie  West  was  at  Bent’s 
Fort. 

After  resting  two  days  we  packed  up  again  and  started 
for  Bent’s  Fort.  Uncle  Kit  went  along  with  us  to  assist 
in  making  a good  sale  of  our  furs,  and  we  arrived  there 
just  in  time,  as  the  last  train  was  going  out  for  the  sea- 
son, and  we  sold  them  for  a good  price. 

Here  I met  Jim  Bridger,  Johnnie  West  and  a number 
of  other  acquaintances  and  friends  who  supposed  I had 
been  killed  and  scalped  by  the  Indians.  I was  sorry  to 
learn  that  Johnnie  West,  like  the  majority  of  the  old 
frontiersmen,  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of  drinking  up 
every  dollar  that  he  earned. 

While  we  were  here,  Uncle  Kit  made  a proposition 
that  himself,  Jim  Beckwith,  Jim  Bridger  and  myself  take 
a trip  to  the  head  of  the  Missouri  river  and  put  in  the 
winter  trapping. 

He  said  he  wanted  to  make  this  trip  and  then  quit 
the  business,  saying:  ‘‘I  have  business  enough  at  home 

to  attend  to,  but  I have  always  had  an  anxiety  to  take  a 
trip  to  the  headwaters  of  the  Missouri  river.” 

The  four  of  us  returned  to  Taos,  arriving  there  just  in 


Yellowstone  Lake,  Yellowstone  Park,  Wyoming. 


THE  FANDANGO. 


267 


time  to  celebrate  the  Fourth  of  July,  arriving  on  the  sec- 
ond, and  now  I was  home  again  in  my  fine  buckskin  suit. 

The  night  of  the  fourth  we  all  attended  a big  fan- 
dango, and  had  a huge  time.  I was  somewhat  over  my 
bashfulness  by  this  time,  and  by  the  assistance  of  Mrs. 
Carson  and  two  or  three  other  ladies  present,  I was  en- 
abled to  get  through  in  pretty  good  shape.  After  that 
night’s  dancing,  I felt  that  if  I were  back  at  the  Fort, 
where  I tried  to  dance  my  first  set,  I would  show  them 
how  dancing  first  began. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


\ WARM  TIME  IN  A COLD  COUNTRY. — A BAND  OF  BAN- 
NOCKS CHASE  US  INTO  A STORM  THAT  SAVES  US. 

Kit  Carson  slightly  wounded. — Beckwith  makes 

A CENTURY  RUN. 


We  remained  at  Taos  until  August  first,  then,  all 
being  ready  for  our  northern  trip,  each  man  taking  his 
own  saddle-horse  and  five  pack  horses,  we  made  the  start 
for  the  headwaters  of  the  Missouri  river.  We  crossed 
the  Platte  where  it  leaves  the  mountains,  and  the  next 
day  we  met  a band  of  Arapahoes,  who  informed  us  that 
the  Sioux  were  on  the  war-path,  and  that  Gen.  Harney 


268 


Gen,  Harney’s  camp. 


was  stationed  on  North  Platte  with  a considerable  body 
of  soldiers.  The  day  following,  after  having  crossed  the 
Cache-la-Pondre,  we  reached  Gen.  Harney’s  camp.  The 
General,  being  a good  friend  of  Uncle  Kit  and  Jim 
Bridger,  insisted  on  our  being  his  guests,  so  we  took  sup- 
per with  him  and  camped  there  for  the  night. 

While  at  the  supper  table,  Jim  Beckwith  told  the 
General  who  I was  and  what  I had  been  doing  the  last 
three  years,  following  which  I took  Lieut.  Jackson’s  let- 
ter from  my  pocket  and  handed  it  to  the  General.  I had 
never  seen  the  inside  of  the  letter  myself.  The  General 
read  the  letter  the  second  time,  and  looking  up  at  me, 
he  said: 

“Yes,  I’ll  give  you  a job;  you  can  start  in  to-morrow 
if  you  like.” 

Before  I had  time  to  answer  him,  Uncle  Kit  spoke  up, 
saying:  “General,  I have  employed  him  for  the  next  six 

months  and  I cannot  get  along  without  him.” 

At  this  the  General  said:  “Mr.  Carson,  your  busi- 

ness is  not  urgent  and  mine  is,  and  I insist  on  the  young 
man  taking  a position  with  me  for  the  remainder  of  the 
summer.” 

I said:  “General,  I did  not  show  you  that  lettei 

with  the  intention  of  asking  you  for  employment,  but 
simply  to  show  you  the  standing  I have  with  the  people 
where  I have  been.” 

“Young  man,”  he  replied,  “I  don’t  wish  to  flatter 
you,  but  there  is  not  a man  in  my  service  that  I could 
conscientiously  give  such  a letter.” 

When  he  saw  that  we  were  determined  to  proceed, 
he  tried  to  persuade  us  that  we  could  not  make  it 


Upper  Falls  of  tbe  Yellowstone,  Yellowstone  Park,  Wyoming 


A SKIRMISH. 


269 


through,  ‘‘For,”  said  he,  “the  whole  country  is  full  of 
hostile  Indians  between  here  and  there,  and  they  are  kil- 
ling emigrants  every  day.”  Which  was  true. 

The  following  morning  we  pulled  out  again,  aiming  to 
push  through  and  get  into  the  bad  lands  as  quickly  as 
possible,  knowing  that  when  once  in  there  we  would  not 
be  attacked  by  a large  band  of  Indians,  there  being  no 
game  in  that  region  for  them  to  live  on. 

The  second  day  out  from  Gen.  Kearney’s  quarters, 
about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  we  were  looking  for 
a place  to  camp  for  the  night,  when  we  saw  eleven  In- 
dians coming  for  us  full  tilt.  Jim  Bridger  was  riding  in 
the  lead,  I being  the  hindmost  one.  Jim  being  the  first 
to  see  them,  he  turned  as  quick  as  a wink  and  we  all  rode 
to  the  center.  Each  man  having  a saddle-horse  and  five 
pack-horses,  they  made  good  breastworks  for  us,  so  we 
all  dismounted  and  awaited  the  impolite  arrival.  I drew 
my  rifle  down  across  the  back  of  one  of  the  horses  when 
the  Indians  were  two  hundred  yards  away,  and  Uncle 
Kit  said:  “Don’t  fire  yet.  All  wait  until  they  get  near 

us,  and  I will  give  the  word  for  all  to  fire  at  once.  Each 
man  take  good  aim,  and  make  sure  of  his  Indian;  use 
your  rifles  first  and  then  draw  your  pistols.” 

He  did  not  give  the  word  until  they  were  within  about 
one  hundred  yards  of  us,  and  when  he  did,  we  all  fired. 
I saw  my  Indian  fall  to  the  ground.  We  then  drew  our 
revolvers,  and  I got  in  two  more  shots  before  the  Indians 
could  turn  their  ponies  so  as  to  get  away. 

At  the  first  shot  with  my  revolver  I did  not  see  the 
Indian  fall,  but  at  the  second  shot  I got  my  man. 

We  killed  seven  from  the  little  band,  only  leaving 


270 


Crow  Indians. 


four.  They  seemed  to  realize  at  once  that  they  had  bit 
off  more  than  they  could  chew,  and  in  about  three  min- 
utes they  were  out  of  sight,  and  that  was  the  last  we  saw 
of  them. 

We  did  not  get  a man  wounded,  and  only  one  horse 
hurt,  and  that  very  slightly 

This  was  our  last  trouble  with  Indians  until  we  were 
across  the  Yellowstone. 

The  next  day  after  crossing  that  river  we  saw  on  our 
right,  about  a quarter  of  a mile  away,  twenty  Crow  In- 


dians coming 
for  us.  They 
gave  us  chase 
for  five  or  six 
miles,  until  we 
struck  suitable 
ground.  As 
soon  as  that  was 
obtained  we 
stopped  to  make 

a stand,  and  as  soon  as  they  were  in  sight  around  the 
hill  they  were  within  gunshot,  and  we  all  fired.  I think 


I saw  two  Indian  wick-i-ups. 


Mammoth  Hot  Springs,  Yellowstone  Park,  Wyoming. 


UNFRIENDLY  TRAPPERS. 


271 


I wounded  my  Indian  in  the  leg,  and  killed  his  horse. 
Jim  Beckwith  said  he  saw  three  Indians  fall  to  the 
ground.  This,  however,  was  the  last  trouble  we  had 
with  the  Crow  Indians  on  that  trip. . 

The  next  day  we  arrived  at  Fort  Benton,  on  the  Mis- 
souri river.  There  we  met  a number  of  trappers  in  the 
employ  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  and  not  an  inde- 
pendent trapper  in  the  outfit.  Strange,  but  true,  the 
trappers  in  the  employ  of  that  Company  always  hated  the 
sight  of  an  independent  trapper. 

Here  we  stayed  over  two  days,  trying  to  gather  some 
information  as  to  our  route,  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem, 
we  could  not  find  a man  who  would  give  us  any  informa- 
tion as  to  the  route  we  wished  to  go,  which  was  only 
about  two  hundred  miles  from  there. 

Trapping  had  never  been  done  in  that  region,  and 
these  men  knew  that  this  was  because  of  hostile  Indians 
there.  They  were  not  men  of  sufficient  principle  to  even 
intimate  to  us  that  the  Indians  were  dangerous  in  that  sec- 
tion, but  let  us  go  on  to  find  it  out  for  ourselves,  hoping, 
no  doubt,  that  the  Indians  would  kill  us  and  that  there 
would  be  so  many  independent  trappers  out  of  the  way. 
From  here  we  took  the  divide  between  the  Missouri  river 
and  the  Yellowstone,  aiming  to  keep  on  high  land  in 
order  to  steer  clear,  as  much  as  possible,  of  hostile  In- 
dians. 

Uncle  Kit  said  he  was  satisfied  that  there  was  a large 
basin  somewhere  in  that  country,  but  did  not  know  just 
where  or  how  to  find  it. 

It  was  in  the  evening  of  the  fifth  day  when  we  came 
upon  a high  ridge,  and  almost  due  west  of  us  and  far 


272 


Brxdger's  Pass. 


below  we  could  see  a great  valley,  since  known  as  Galla- 
tin Valley,  where  Bozeman,  Mont.,  now  stands. 

When  we  came  in  sight  of  this  beautiful  region, 
Uncle  Kit  said:  '‘Boys,  this  is  the  country  I have  been 

looking  for,  and  I’ll  assure  you  if  we  can  get  in  there 
and  are  not  molested,  we  can  catch  beaver  by  the 
hundred.” 

We  had  not  been  bothored  by  Indians,  nor  had  we 
seen  any  sign  of  them  since  we  left  Fort  Benton. 

We  had  been  on  high  ground  all  of  the  way,  and 
we  thought  now  when  once  in  this  valley  we  would  be 
entirely  out  of  the  way  of  the  Crows,  and  the  Ban- 
nocks and  Blackfoot  Indians  would  be  the  only  tribes 
to  contend  with. 

From  where  we  first  saw  the  valley,  we  started  to 
go  down  the  mountain.  The  next  day,  as  we  got  lower, 
we  could  see  plenty  of  Indian  sign.  Striking  a canyon, 
that  we  thought  would  lead  us  down  to  the  valley,  we 
gave  it  the  name  of  Bridger’s  Pass,  which  name  it  has 
to-day.  As  we  neared  the  valley  we  saw  more  Indian 
sign,  and  from  the  amount  of  it,  it  seemed  that  the  coun- 
try must  be  alive  with  them.  When  within -about  five  or 
six  miles  of  the  valley,  we  saw  a band  of  Indians  to  our 
right,  on  the  ridge. 

Jim  Bridger  said:  “Boys,  they  are  Crows,  and  we 

are  in  for  it.  ” 

They  did  not  come  in  reach  of  us,  but  kept  along  the 
ridge  above  us.  We  could  see  by  looking  ahead  that 
near  the  mouth  of  this  canyon  there  was  a high  cliff  of 
rocks. 

We  expected  to  be  attacked  from  those  rocks,  and  we 


Castle  Geyser,  Yellowstone  Park.  Wyoming 


GUARD  DUTY. 


273 


had  to  be  very  cautious  in  passing  this  point.  But  to  our 
surprise  they  did  not  make  the  attack.  Here  we  began 
to  see  beaver  sign  in  abundance.  I don’t  think  that  I 
ever  in  my  life  saw  as  much  of  it  on  the  same  space  of 
ground  as  I saw  there,  for  every  little  stream  that  emptied 
into  that  valley  was  full  of  beaver  dams. 

The  Indians  kept  in  sight  of  us  until  we  struck  the 
valley,  which  was  just  at  sunset.  We  traveled  until 
dark,  when  we  stopped  and  built  up  a big  fire.  As  soon 
as  our  fire  was  burning  good  we  mounted  our  horses  and 
rode  about  one  mile  on  to  open  ground.  Dismounting, 
we  loosened  all  our  saddles,  both  pack  and  riding-sad- 
dles, and  picketed  all  our  horses  as  close  together  as  we 
could. 

We  made  our  bed  in  the  center,  keeping  a guard  out 
all  night.  Jim  Beckwith  was  the  first  man  on  duty,  and 
my  turn  came  second.  By  the  time  I went  to  relieve 
Jim  the  moon  was  up,  and  he  told  me  to  keep  a keen 
lookout  in  the  direction  of  the  creek,  ‘‘For,”  said  he,  “I 
am  almost  sure  I saw  an  Indian  in  that  direction  about 
half  an  hour  ago.” 

Of  course  this  put  me  on  my  guard,  and  I kept  my 
eye  peeled  in  great  shape.  About  my  second  trip  around 
the  horses  I looked  in  the  direction  of  the  creek  and 
thought  I saw  an  Indian  coming  on  all  fours. 

He  would  only  come  a few  steps  and  then  stop.  Be- 
ing below  me,  I could  not  get  him  between  me  and  the 
moon,  so  I concluded  I would  meet  him  half  way.  I got 
down  on  all  fours  and  watched  him,  and  when  he  would 
start  I would  move  ahead,  keeping  my  eye  on  him,  and 
when  he  would  stop  I would  stop  also. 


274 


A MISTAKE. 


This  I did  so  that  to  move  at  the  same  time  he  did, 
he  could  not  hear  the  noise  made  by  me.  When  I was 
close  enough  I laid  flat  on  the  ground,  shut  my  left  hand, 
and  placing  it  on  the  ground,  resting  my  gun  on  my  fist, 
took  good  aim  and  I got  him. 

At  the  crack  of  my  gun  the  whole  crowd  were  on 
their  feet,  and  a moment  later  were  at  the  scene  of  war. 
We  went  to  the  place  where  it  lay,  and  beheld  a very 
large  white  wolf  lying  there,  4 ‘dead  as  a door  nail.” 

This  was  the  first  time  I had  ever  made  such  a mis- 
take, and  it  was  some  time 
before  I heard  the  last  of  it. 

The  next  morning  when  we 
got  up,  instead  of  being  one 
band  of  Indians  in  sight,  there 
were  two.  We  made  up  our 
minds  that  we  had  discov- 
ered the  finest  trapping  ground 
in  America,  and  had  a poor 
show  to  get  away  from  it,  but 
we  went  ahead  and  got  our 
breakfast,  just  as  though  there 
were  no  Indians  in  sight  of  us, 
but  we  concluded  we  had  better 
leave  this  part  of  the  country, 
so  we  pulled  out  southwest 
across  the  valley,  having  no 
trouble  until  we  struck  the  West 
Gallatin  river. 

Here  the  beaver  dams  were  so  thick  that  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  find  a place  to  cross.  After  prospecting  some  little 


Grotto  Geyser.  Yellowstone  Park,  Wyoming. 


A WARM  TIME  IN 


^75 


time,  we  struck  on  a buffalo  trail  crossing  the  river,  and 
we  concluded  to  cross  on  that  trail.  I was  in  the  lead, 
but  did  not  proceed  far  until  we  saw  the  mud  was  so  deep 
that  we  had  to  retrace  our  steps.  When  we  faced  about 
to  come  back,  of  course  I was  thrown  into  the  rear,  and 
just  as  we  had  turned  the  Indians  made  an  attack  on  us 
from  the  brush.  I fired  four  shots  at  them  at  short  range 
with  my  revolver,  the  others  firing  at  the  same  time. 
Just  as  we  were  out  of  the  brush,  my  favorite  horse, 
Mexico,  which  was  the  hindmost  horse  in  my  string,  was 
shot  down,  having  five  or  six  arrows  in  his  body.  I 
sprang  from  my  saddle  and  the  other  boys  halted  until  I 
cut  my  dying  horse  loose  from  the  others,  which  was  only 
a second’s  work,  and  we  made  a rush  for  the  open  ground , 
which  was  reached  in  a few  jumps.  The  Indians  did  not 
show  themselves  on  the  open  ground,  but  kept  hid  in  the 
brush.  We  rode  up  and  down  the  stream  for  an  hour 
and  a half,  but  could  not  find  a place  that  we  could  cross 
for  Indians  and  mud.  Every  place  we  would  attempt  to 
cross,  the  Indians  would  attack  us  from  the  brush. 

This,  however,  was  all  an  open  country,  excepting 
immediately  along  the  stream,  where  was  an  immense 
growth  of  underbrush.  After  making  several  attempts  to 
cross  and  being  driven  back,  Jim  Beckwith  proposed  that 
we  put  spurs  to  our  horses  and  ride  as  fast  as  they  could 
carry  us  for  three  or  four  miles  up  the  river,  that  we 
might  be  able  to  cross  before  the  Indians  would  be  able 
to  get  there,  “For,”  said  he,  “this  brush  seems  to  be  full 
of  redskins.” 

This  being  agreed  to,  we  all  started  at  full  speed  up 
the  river,  and  after  running  some  distance  we  saw  a large 


2 76 


A COLD  COUNTRY. 


buffalo  trail  leading  across  the  river.  Jim  Bridger  being 
in  the  lead,  said:  “Here  is  a big  buffalo  trail,  let’s  try 

crossing  on  it.”  We  were  about  one-fourth  of  a mile 
from  the  river,  and  Uncle  Kit,  who  from  some  cause  had 
dropped  behind,  sang  out:  “All  right,  let’s  hurry  and 

get  across  and  out  of  the  brush  on  the  other  side  before 
.hem  redskins  get  here.” 

At  this  we  all  made  a rush  for  the  river,  and  just  as 
we  were  going  out  on  the  other  side  the  Indians  attacked 
us  from  the  brush.  They  shot  Uncle  Kit’s  hindmost  horse 
down  before  he  was  out  of  the  mud  and  water,  and  he 
had  to  get  off  in  two  feet  of  mud  and  water  to  cut  his 
dying  horse  loose  from  the  string  of  horses.  We  killed 
two  Indians  here.  Uncle  Kit,  while  he  was  down  cutting 
his  horse  loose,  shot  one  who  was  just  in  the  act  of  strik- 
ing him  with  a tomahawk.  We  made  our  way  to  open 
ground  as  quick  as  possible,  rode  about  a half  a mile  and 
then  stopped  and  loaded  our  pistols. 

Uncle  Kit  said:  “Boys,  how  in  the  world  are  we  to 

get  out  of  this?  The  whole  country  is  alive  with  Indians.” 

Jim  Bridger  said:  “Kit,  you  are  the  man  that  got  us 

in  here,  and  we  will  look  for  you  to  get  us  out.” 

“AIL  right,”  said  Kit,  “mount  your  horses  and  let’s 
’ e off.”  And  he  gave  orders  to  ride  abreast  when  the 
/ound  would  permit. 

By  riding  in  this  manner  we  could  corral  quicker. 
What  is  meant  by  corralling  is  that  each  man  has  his 
string  of  horses  as  we  have  before  stated,  and  when  at- 
tacked each  man  rides  to  the  center,  and  the  horses  are 
a great  protection  to  the  men  in  time  of  battle.  We 
r 


Gibbon  Falls,  84  feet,  Yellowstone  Park,  Wyoming. 


n ; 


■ 


A CONTESTED  STREAM. 


277 


traveled  some  four  or  five  miles  without  seeing  an  Indian, 
but  all  this  time  we  were  on  open  ground. 

Fnally  we  came  to  a little  stream,  a tributary  to  the 
Madison  river,  and  when  crossing  this  we  were  again  at- 
tacked by  the  Indians,  who  were  secreted  in  the  brush. 

This  was  a surprise,  for  we  had  not  seen  an  Indian 
since  we  left  the  West  Gallatin.  Here  we  had  a fight 
that  lasted  full  twenty  minutes.  We  were  about  the 
middle  of  the  stream  when  they  opened  fire  on  us. 

Uncle  Kit  said:  “Come  ahead,  boys;”  at  the  same 

we  commenced  firing  at  the  Indians,  and  every  foot  of 
that  stream  had  to  be  contested,  from  the  middle,  where 
they  first  opened  fire  on  us,  to  the  shore.  I saw  two  dead 
Indians  in  the  water,  and  there  might  have  been  more, 
but  I did  not  have  time  to  stop  and  look  for  Indians, 
either  dead  or  alive.  I had  seen  the  time  that  I was 
hunting  for  Indians,  but  at  this  particular  time  I didn’t 
feel  as  though  I had  lost  any. 

Uncle  Kit  was  now  in  the  lead  and  I was  bringing  up 
the  rear.  Just  as  we  were  out  of  the  water  and  he  was 
removing  the  saddle  from  his  horse,  he  got  two  arrows 
through  his  buckskin  hunting  shirt,  and  was  very  slightly 
hurt. 

We  managed  to  stand  them  off  until  he  removed  the 
saddle  from  the  dying  horse  to  another,  after  which  we 
pulled  for  open  ground,  all  escaping  unhurt,  excepting 
the  slight  scratch  Uncle  Kit  received  from  the  arrow. 

The  redskins  did  not  follow  us  away  from  the  creek. 

As  soon  as  we  were  on  open  ground  we  stopped  and 
built  a fire  and  dried  our  clothing,  for  we  were  as  wet  as 
drowned  rats.  To  build  a fire  we  had  to  pull  small  sage- 


278 


CHASED  BY  BANNOCKS 


brush  that  grew  here  and  there  in  the  open  prairie  in  that 
country.  While  we  were  drying  our  clothing  and  eating 
a lunch,  we  had  our  horses  feeding  near  us,  but  did  not 
dare  let  them  scatter  for  fear  of  an  attack,  which  we  were 
liable  to  experience  at  any  moment.  After  we  had  our 
clothing  pretty  well  dried  out  and  having  had  a little 
something  in  the  way  of  refreshments,  on  looking  off  to 
the  northeast  about  two  miles  distant,  we  saw  a big  band 
of  buffalo  and  a lot  of  Indians  after  them. 

We  concluded  that  we  had  remained  here  long 
enough,  so  we  mounted  and  pulled  out  again. 

The  balance  of  the  day  we  kept  on  open  ground,  and 
saw  numerous  little  bands  of  Indians,  but  were  not  mo- 
lested by  them  until  late  in  the  afternoon. 

About  sundown,  while  traveling  down  a little  narrow 
valley,  all*  of  a sudden  about  fifteen  Indians,  all  well 
mounted,  made  a charge  on  us.  We  corralled  at  once. 
By  this  time  our  horses  had  learned  to  corral  pretty  quick, 
and  when  they  were  in  gunshot  we  opened  fire  on  them. 
I fired  at  one  with  my  rifle  and  got  him,  for  I saw  him 
fall  to  the  ground,  and  I got  another  with  my  pistol.  I 
do  not  know  how  many  were  killed,  but  they  went  away 
a much  less  number  than  they  came.  We  all  escaped 
^unhurt,  but  Uncle  Kit  lost  another  horse,  making  in  all 
four  horses  that  day. 

We  moved  on  again  and  traveled  about  five  miles  and 
made  another  camp,  but  did  not  build  a fire.  Our  horses 
were  picketed  near  camp,  and  that  night  we  stood  guard 
the  same  as  the  night  before,  but  I did  not  see  any  In- 
dians crawling  up  on  all  fours.  The  morning  following 
ve  were  off  very  early,  and  traveled  some  four  miles 


Grand  Canon  of  the  Yellowstone,  Yellowstone  Park,  Wyoming, 


INTO  A STORM 


279 


before  we  came  to  water.  Coming  to  a nice  little  brook, 
we  stopped  and  took  our  breakfast.  Here  we  had  a 
chance  to  have  killed  an  antelope,  but  did  not  dare  shoot. 

After  taking  something  for  the  inner  man,  we  pro- 
ceeded on  our  way.  We  did  not  have  any  more  trouble 
with  Indians,  not  even  seeing  any  until  we  got  to  what  is 
known  as  Stinking  Water  or  Alder  creek,  near  where  Vir- 
ginia City,  Mont.,  now  stands.  In  traveling  down  this 
stream,  which  is  quite  crooked,  and  just  as  we  were 
rounding  one  of  those  points  of  the  hill  running  down 
to  the  creek,  riding  in  the  lead  I saw  two  Indian  wick- 
i-ups  about  half  a mile  ahead,  just  in  the  edge  of  the 
brush.  I at  once  gave  the  signal  to  turn  back,  and 
we  got  out  of  sight  without  being  discovered  by  the 
Indians. 

We  turned  our  course,  somewhat,  making  a circuit- 
ous route,  and  when  we  were  just  opposite  the  wick-i- 
ups,  Jim  Bridger  and  Uncle  Kit  climbed  to  the  top  of 
the  hill,  taking  my  glasses  with  them,  and  took  in  the 
situation.  When  they  returned  to  where  we  were  they 
were  feeling  much  more  encouraged,  saying:  “Thank 

God  we  are  rid  of  the  Blackfoots  and  Crows;  those  are 
the  Bannocks.  We  are  now  in  their  country,  and  they 
are  not  so  numerous  nor  so  hostile  as  the  Crows  and 
Blackfoots.”  That  night  we  camped  on  Stinking  Water, 
near  Lone  Butte,  picketed  our  horses  close  around  camp 
and  stood  guard  the  same  as  the  two  nights  previous. 

The  next  morning  we  were  up  early  and  off  again, 
aiming  to  cross  the  main  divide  and  go  over  to  Fort  Hall, 
expecting  to  find  there  a great  many  trappers  and  raise  a 


280 


THAT  SAVES  US. 


crowd  sufficient  to  come  back  and  trap  on  the  Gallatin 
river  this  winter. 

At  that  time  Fort  Hall  was  a great  rendezvous  for 
trappers. 

Now  we  were  beginning  to  feel  more  encouraged  and 
to  think  our  chances  were  pretty  good,  but  that  evening, 
while  traveling  up  Beaver  Canyon,  which,  I think  the 
railroad  runs  up  now,  from  Pocatello,  Idaho,  to  Butte 
City,  Mont.,  the  Bannocks  attacked  us  about  fifty  strong. 

They  held  us  there  for  about  an  hour,  and  had  it  not 
been  for  a thunder  storm  that  came  up,  I don’t  think  one 
of  us  would  have  got  out  of  that  canyon,  for  they  had  us 
completely  surrounded.  They  killed  two  horses  from  Jim 
Bridger’s  string  and  wounded  Uncle  Kit  in  one  shoulder 
severely. 

When  the  thunder  storm  came  up  the  Indians  were 
gradually  closing  in  on  us,  and  it  commenced  to  thunder 
and  lightning,  and  it  actually  rained  so  hard  that  one 
person  could  not  see  another  two  rods  before  him. 

While  it  was  raining  so  hard,  we  mounted  and  rode 
out  of  the  canyon. 

I never  saw  it  rain  harder  in  my  life  than  it  did  for  a 
half  hour.  When  we  were  on  open  ground  and  it  had 
quit  raining,  we  stopped,  and  Uncle  Kit  said:  “Now  who 
says  the  Almighty  didn’t  save  us  this  time  by  sending 
that  shower  of  rain  just  at  the  right  time?” 

That  night  we  camped  near  the  summit  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  dividing  the  waters  that  run  into  the  Pacific 
and  Atlantic  oceans.  Uncle  Kit  suffered  all  that  night 
from  his  arrow  wound,  the  arrow  going  under  his  shoul- 
der blade,  and  when  we  examined  the  wound  we  found 


The  Bannocks  attacked  us  about  fifty  strong.  Page  280 


at  Fort  Hall. 


281 


it  much  deeper  than  we  had  any  idea  of.  This  was  the 
last  trouble  with  Indians  on  that  trip. 

The  next  morning  we  started  very  early,  and  were 
three  days  making  Fort  Hall,  having  no  trouble  whatevei 
on  the  way.  On  arriving  at  the  Fort  we  were  very  much 
disappointed  in  regard  to  raising  our  crowd  to  go  to  the 
head  of  the  Missouri  river  to  trap  the  coming  winter. 
There  were  only  about  twenty  trappers  at  Fort  Hall  at 
that  time,  and  they  appeared  to  have  no  particular  ob- 
jections to  living  a little  while  longer.  Those  of  them 
who  had  never  interviewed  the  Blackfoot  and  Crow  In- 
dians personally  were  pretty  well  acquainted  with  them 
by  reputation,  and  they  said  they  did  not  care  to  risk 
their  lives  in  that  country.  We  remained  here  two 
weeks,  after  which  time — Uncle  Kit’s  wound  getting  con- 
sderable  better — Jim  Bridger,  Uncle  Kit  and  myself  con- 
cluded to  go  on  to  the  waters  of  Green  river  and  trap  the 
coming  winter. 

While  here,  Jim  Beckwith  fell  in  with  a man  by  the 
name  of  Reese,  who  said  he  had  trapped  on  the  head- 
waters of  Snake  river  the  winter  previous,  and  that  trap- 
ping was  good  there.  He  induced  Beckwith  to  go  to  that 
section  of  the  country,  saying  it  was  only  one  hundred 
miles  from  Fort  Hall.  This  trapping  ground  was  imme- 
diately across  the  divide  of  the  Rockies  and  south  of  the 
Gallatin,  where  the  Blackfoot  and  Crow  Indians  were  so 
bad,  but  Reece  thought  they  could  get  out  the  next  spring 
before  the  Indians  could  get  across  the  mountains. 

So  he  and  Beckwith  started,  and  at  the  same  time  we 
pulled  out  for  the  head  of  Green  river.  They  went  to  the 
head  of  Snake  river,  and  I afterwards  learned  that  they 


282 


A CENTURY  RUN. 


trapped  there  all  winter  with  splendid  success,'  but  trap- 
ping being  so  good  they  stayed  too  late  in  the  spring. 
One  morning  about  the  last  days  of  April,  after  they  had 
just  eaten  their  breakfast  and  were  making  preparations 
to  go  to  look  after  the;r  traps,  they  were  attacked  by 
about  one  hundred  Blackfoot  Indians.  Reese  was  killed 
the  first  shot,  and  Jim  then  saw  that  his  only  show  was 
to  run,  which  he  did.  It  was  about  sunrise  when  they 
made  the  attack.  Jim  Beckwith  fled,  with  the  Indians  in 
hot  pursuit.  It  was  claimed  to  be  one  hundred  miles 
from  there  to  Fort  Hall,  and  that  same  evening,  before 
dark,  he  was  in  Fort  Hall,  and  he  went  all  the  way  on 
foot. 

In  this  run  Beckwith  burst  the  veins  in  his  legs  in 
numerous  places,  making  him  a cripple  for  life.  The  last 
time  I saw  him  was  at  his  own  home,  near  Denver,  Colo  , 
in  1863.  At  that  time  he  was  so  badly  crippled  that  he 
had  to  walk  with  two  canes,  and  after  telling  me  the 
condition  he  was  in,  he  showed  me  a number  of  running 
sores  that  were  caused  by  the  bursted  veins.  For  Jim 
Beckwith,  now  dead  and  gone,  I will  say,  he  was  a hero 
in  his  day.  For  bravery  he  was  far  above  the  average, 
and  at  the  same  time  he  was  honorable  and  upright.  He 
was  a man  whose  word  was  as  good  as  gold,  and  one  who 
was  possessed  of  great  strength  and  had  a constitution 
equal  to  that  of  a mustang.  The  worst  thing  that  could 
be  said  of  Jim  Beckwith  was  that  he  was  his  own 
worst  enemy,  for  he  would  spend  his  money  for  whiskey 
as  fast  as  he  earned  it. 

Uncle  Kit,  Jim  Bridger  and  myself  wintered  on  the 
waters  of  tlF  ( ‘ceil  river  and  trapped,  but  had  very  poor 


Pike’s  Peak  Railway,  Colorado. 


Burro  and  Load,  Colorado. 


at  Bent’s  Fort. 


283 


success,  this  country  having  been  trapped  over  so  much 
that  the  beaver  were  scarce  and  hard  to  catch,  and  Uncle 
Kit’s  wound  bothered  him  all  winter,  and  in  fact  as  long 
as  he  lived. 

After  winter  had  broken  up  we  started  for  New  Mex- 
ico, via  North  Park.  Our  idea  in  taking  that  route  was 
to  avoid  the  hostile  Sioux. 

We  were  successful  in  getting  through  without  having 
any  trouble  with  Indians,  whatever,  arriving  at  Bent’s 
Fort  about  the  first  of  June.  We  sold  our  furs  again 
to  Col.  Bent  and  Mr.  Roubidoux.  Joe  Favor  having 
gone  out  of  business,  I engaged  with  Col.  Bent  and 
Mr.  Roubidoux  to  go  among  the  Arapahoe  Indians  to 
trade  for  furs  and  buffalo  robes. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


Carson  quits  the  trail. — Buffalo  robes  for  ten 
cents. — “Pike’s  Peak  or  bust.” — The  new  city 
of  Denver. — “Busted.” — How  the  news  got 

STARTED. 


Uncle  Kit  Carson  pulled  out  for  home  and  when  he 
was  starting  he  said  he  had  done  his  last  trapping  and  he 


284 


Carson  quits 


was  going  home  to  his  sheep  ranch  and  take  things  easy. 
“For,”  said  he,  “I  had  the  wust  luck  last  winter  that  I 
ever  had  in  my  life,  when  I had  ’lowed  to  have  the  best. 
I’m  gittin  old  enough  to  quit.” 

Before  he  left  he  told  me  that  whenever  I felt  like  it 
he  wanted  me  to  come  to  his  place  and  make  my  home 
as  long  as  I pleased. 

Col.  Bent  fitted  me  out  with  twenty-five  pack  animals 
and  two  Mexican  boys  to  assist  me,  and  I started  for  the 
Arrapahoe  country,  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  miles 
distant.  I was  supplied  with  beads,  blankets  and  rings 
to  trade  to  the  Indians  for  furs  and  buffalo  robes. 

On  my  arrival  at  the  Arrapahoe  village  I learned  that 
there  were  not  many  furs  on  hand,  as  the  Sioux  had  been 
so  hostile  the  past  fall  and  winter  that  the  Arraphoes  had 
not  been  able  to  trap  or  hunt  much,  consequently  we 
had  to  visit  all  the  little  hunting  parties  belonging  to  that 
tribe,  in  order  to  get  furs  and  robes  enough  to  load  out- 
pack  train. 

After  remainiug  about  two  weeks  I got  a fair  load 
and  started  on  my  return,  making  the  round  trip  in  little 
over  one  month,  having  had  no  trouble  whatever  with 
Indians  or  otherwise.  On  my  return  to  Bent’s  Fort  I 
found  John  West,  who  had  been  trapping  in  the  Wind- 
river  mountains  in  company  with  two  other  men  I did 
not  know.  They  had  been  successful  the  past  winter 
and  had  sold  their  furs  for  a good  price,  and  now  Johnnie 
had  plenty  of  money  and  was  having  what  he  termed  a 
glorious  good  time,  spending  from  ten  to  forty  dollars 
a day. 

After  I had  settled  up  with  Col.  Bent  and  Mr.  Rou- 


Flock  of  Deer. 


Taos,  North  Town,  Pueblo,  New  Mexico. 


i 


ARRIVAL  AT  TAOS. 


285 


bidoux  I went  to  Taos  with  the  determination  that  I 
would  take  it  easy  the  balance  of  this  season. 

Col.  Bent  offered  to  bet  me  a horse  that  I would  not 
stay  in  Taos  one  month.  He  told  me  that  if  I would  go 
to  Taos  and  rest  up  a month  and  return  to  the  fort  and 
hunt  for  them  the  balance  of  the  season  he  would  make 
me  a present  of  a better  horse  than  the  other  one  he  gave 
me,  but  I told  him  that  he  was  mistaken,  and  that  he 
never  owned  a better  horse  than  Pinto.  I knew  that 
Pinto  was  getting  old  and  had  had  many  a hard  day’s 
ride,  but  I could  get  on  him  to-morrow  morning  after 
breakfast,  and  be  in  Taos  before  sundown,  which  was  a 
distance  of  eighty  miles.  I made  a bargain  with  them 
to  return  to  the  fort  in  a month  from  that  time  and  hunt 
for  them  until  something  else  turned  up. 

On  my  arrival  at  Taos  I found  Jim  Bridger  stopping 
with  Uncle  Kit,  and  he  made  me  a proposition  that  we 
go  and  stop  with  the  Kiowa  tribe  that  winter  and  buy 
furs  and  and  buffalo  robes.  I agreed  to  that  provided 
that  Col.  Bent  and  Mr.  Roubidoux  would  agree  to  buy 
the  furs  and  robes  of  us.  They  were  the  only  traders  in 
that  country  since  Joe  Favor  had  retired  from  business. 

In  one  month  I returned  to  the  fort  as  per  contract 
and  started  in  hunting. 

There  was  so  much  stock  around  the  fort  that  I had 
to  go  from  ten  to  twenty  miles  to  find  deer,  and  some- 
times further  to  find  buffalo. 

After  I had  hunted  about  three  weeks  Jim  Bridger 
came  over  to  try  to  make  a bargain  with  the  company  in 
regard  to  buying  furs  and  buffalo  robes. 

Up  to  this  time  the  Kiowas  had  not  traded  any  at 


286 


THE  NEW  CHIEF. 


this  fort.  In  fact,  there  had  been  but  little  trading  done 
among  them,  yet  they  were  in  the  heart  of  the  buffalo 
country  in  the  fall  of  the  year,  being  located  on  the 
Arkansas  river,  one  hundred  miles  west  from  the  Big 
Bend.  We  made  a bargain  to  work  for  Bent  and  Rou- 
bidoux  by  the  month,  they  to  furnish  us. 

They  thought  the  best  plan  would  be  to  buy  a load 
of  robes  and  return  with  it,  and  then  go  back  again,  for 
by  so  doing  we  would  not  have  to  run  chances  of  being 
robbed  by  other  tribes  as  we  would  by  waiting  until 
spring  to  pack  over  to  the  fort. 

We  started  about  the  first  of  November  for  the  Kiowa 
village,  with  thirty-two  pack-horses  and  a Mexican  boy 
to  help  us.  This  was  just  the  time  of  year  that  the  buf- 
falo were  moving  south  for  the  winter,  and  they  travel 
much  slower  and  are  much  harder  to  frighten  than  in  the 
spring  when  they  are  traveling  the  other  way.  I 
attributed  this  to  their  being  so  much  fatter  in  the  fall  of 
the  year,  for  in  the  fall  one  would  never  see  a poor  buf- 
falo except  it  was  either  an  old  male  or  one  that  had  been 
crippled;  and  their  hides  are  much  more  valuable  than 
those  taken  off  in  the  spring. 

On  arriving  at  the  village  we  found  that  the  Indians 
had  a new  chief,  whom  neither  of  us  were  acquainted 
with.  His  name  was  Blackbird.  The  old  chief.  Black 
Buffalo,  who  fed  us  on  dog  meat  when  we  were  on  our 
way  from  St.  Louis  to  Taos,  ten  years  before,  having 
died,  Blackbird  was  appointed  in  his  place,  and  we  found 
him  to  be  a very  intelligent  Indian.  He  said  his  people 
were  glad  to  have  us  come  among  them  and  that  they 
would  be  pleased  to  trade  with  us. 


Lone  Star  Geyser  in  Action,  Yellowstone  Park,  Wyoming. 


? 


\ 


TRADING  WITH  INDIANS, 


287 


We  stayed  there  about  two  weeks  before  offering  to 
buy  a hide  or  fur  of  them,  but  would  show  our  goods 
quite  frequently  in  order  to  make  them  anxious,  and  by 
doing  so  we  would  be  able  to  make  a better  bargain  with 
them. 

After  staying  there  about  two  weeks  we  told  the  chief 
that  on  a certain  day  we  would  be  ready  to  trade  with 
his  people,  putting  the  date  off  about  one  week. 

When  the  day  arrived  the  Indians  came  in  from  all 
quarters  to  trade  furs  and  robes,  bringing  from  one 
to  one  dozen  robes  to  the  family.  The  squaws  brought 
the  robes,  and  the  bucks  came  along  to  do  the  trading, 
and  we  got  many  a first-class  robe  for  one  string  of 
beads,  which  in  St.  Louis  would  cost  abont  ten  cents. 
We  traded  for  enough  furs  in  one  day  to  load  our  entire 
pack-train  of  thirty-two  horses. 

The  next  morning  we  loaded  up  our  furs  and  pulled 
out,  telling  the  chief  that  we  would  be  back  in  one  moon 
— meaning  in  their  language,  one  month — which  would 
keep  us  busy,  it  being  about  four  hundred  miles  to  Bent’s 
Fort,  and  as  we  were  heavily  loaded  we  would  have  to 
travel  slow.  The  Mexican  boy  would  ride  ahead  and 
the  pack  horses  would  follow  him,  while  Jim  and  I 
brought  up  the  rear.  We  experienced  no  trouble  in  get- 
ting all  the  buffalo  meat  we  wanted,  for  those  beasts  were 
quite  tame  at  this  season  of  the  year,  and  they  would 
often  come  near  our  camp.  So  near,  in  fact,  that  we 
could  sit  in  camp  and  kill  our  meat. 

Upon  our  arrival  at  the  fort  Col.  Bent  and  Mr.  Rou- 
bidoux  were  well  pleased  with  the  success  of  the  trip, 
and  we  at  once  started  back  after  the  second  load.  We 


288 


Pike’s  Peak. 


found  more  furs  and  robes  there  awaiting  our  arrival  than 
we  could  load  on  our  horses.  In  all  we  made  four  trips 
that  winter,  and  Col.  Bent  told  me  some  time  afterward 
that  they  cleared  a thousand  dollars  on  each  cargo. 

When  spring  came  Jim  Bridger  and  I went  to  Taos 
and  visited  Uncle  Kit  for  about  a month. 

This  was  now  the  spring  of  1859  and  the  excitement 
over  the  gold  mines  around  Pike’s  Peak  was  running  high, 
We  all  knew  where  Pike’s  Peak  was,  for  any  day  when  i\ 
was  clear  we  could  see  it  very  plainly  from  Bent’s  Fort 
or  Taos,  but  we  did  not  know  just  where  the  mines  were. 
Jim  proposed  that  we  take  a trip  out  there  and  see  about 
the  mines.  So  we  talked  the  matter  over  until  I was 
finally  attacked  with  that  disease  which  was  then  known 
as  “the  gold  fever.” 

About  the  first  of  June  we  made  a break  for  the  gold 
fields.  We  crossed  the  Arkansas  river  near  Fountain 
ca-booyah  (or  something  like  that) — (Fountain  qui 
Bouille,  Boiling  Fountain) — and  did  not  go  far  from  there 
until  we  struck  a wagon  road,  which  showed  there  had 
been  much  travel,  and  we  could  see  that  it  had  not  been 
long  since  a wagon  passed. 

We  were  very  much  surprised  at  a wagon  road  in  this 
portion  of  country,  but  there  it  was  just  the  same.  We 
lid  not  travel  on  this  road  very  far  until  we  overtook  a 
large  train  of  emigrants,  and  on  making  inquiry  we 
learned  that  they  were  on  their  way  to  Pike’s  Peak. 

Jim  Bridger  laughingly  remarked:  “If  you  are  not 

careful  you  will  pass  Pike’s  Peak  before  you  go  there,  for 
there  is  the  mountain,”  pointing  to  the  Peak,  the  foot  of 
which  we  were  just  then  passing.  At  this  another  man 


Denver. 


289 


said:  “We  are  going  to  Cherry  creek  to  the  mines.  Do 
you  know  how  far  it  is?” 

I told  him  it  was  twenty  miles  to  the  head  of  Cherry 
creek.  He  then  asked  me  how  far  it  was  to  Denver.  I 
told  him  I had  never  heard  of  any  creek  or  river  by  that 
name  in  this  country.  ‘‘But,”  he  said,  “I  mean  Denver 
City.”  But  Jim  and  I had  never  heard  of  the  place.  He 
said  Denver  City  was  on  Cherry  creek  in  the  gold  mines. 

We  passed  on,  crossing  the  main  divide  between  the 
Arkansas  and  the  Platte  rivers,  striking  the  head  of 
Cherry  creek,  then  traveled  down  Cherry  creek  to  the 
mouth,  on  a now  well-beaten  wagon  road,  the  dust  in 
places  being  six  inches  deep  or  more. 

When  we  were  within  a mile  of  the  mouth  of  Cherry 
creek  I looked  ahead,  and  for  the  first  time  I saw  Den- 
ver, there  being  then  as  I supposed  about  fifty  tents  and 
campers’  houses  in  the  place.  We  stopped  to  take  a look 
around  and  saw  people  coming  in,  every  hour  of  the  day, 
over  the  Platte  and  Arkansas  river  routes,  and  could  see 
all  kind  of  conveyances  from  a hand  cart  to  a six-horse 
team.  While  there  I saw  a number  of  carts  come  in 
drawn  by  men  alone,  all  the  way  from  two  to  eight  men 
to  the  cart. 

After  stopping  around  Denver  two  days  and  taking  in 
the  sights,  we  pulled  out  for  the  mountains  to  a place 
called  Gregory,  about  forty  miles  from  Denver,  where  it 
was  reported  they  were  mining. 

The  mines  were  located  on  North  Clear  creek  and 
there  were  only  two  claims  being  worked. 

Gregory,  the  man  that  this  little  camp  was  named 
for,  was  working  a claim  and  said  he  was  taking  out 


290 


GOLD  MINING. 


some  gold,  and  a man  by  the  name  of  Greene  Russsell 
Was  working  another  claim. 

They  were  both  old  Georgia  miners. 

This  man  Russell  told  me  how  the  excitement  got 
started.  He  said  that  himself,  Gregory  and  Dr.  Russell, 
a brother  of  his,  and  three  other  men  had  come  out  there 
the  fall  before,  and  early  that  season  had  discovered  gold 
on  Cherry  creek,  and  also  a little  on  the  mountain  stream 
where  they  were  then  at  work.  Dr.  Russell  being  a man 
of  family,  concluded  to  return  to  his  home  that  fall.  He 
and  the  rest  of  the  crowd  cautioned  him  to  say  nothing 
about  what  they  had  struck,  for  they  did  not  consider 
they  had  found  anything  to  warrant  an  excitement  and  a 
stampede,  as  it  was  termed  in  mining  parlance.  The 
Doctor  promised  he  would  not  mention  it  even  to  his 
most  intimate  friends.  But  it  seems  he  did  not  keep  his 
word,  but  commenced  to  spread  the  news  as  soon  as  he 
struck  the  settlements,  telling  wonderful  stories  of  the 
gold  around  Pike’s  Peak,  which  set  the  people  wild. 
They  seemed  to  think  there  had  been  another  California 
struck  which  caused  a repetition  of  the  stampede  ten 
years  before.  During  the  winter  the  news  spread  all 
over  the  State  and  they  came  from  every  quarter. 

Russell  continued:  ‘‘Now  you  can  see  the  effect  of  it. 
If  I had  known  my  brother  would  have  told  such  out- 
rageous stories  I would  not  have  allowed  him  to  go 
home.”  He  said  he  thought  there  were  a fq,w  claims  out- 
side of  the  ones  they  were  working  that  would  pay,  but 
beyond  that  he  did  not  think  it  would  amount  to  any- 
thing. 

After  remaining  here  one  week  we  concluded  we  had 


WE  START  BACK. 


291 


gold  mining  enough  to  last  us  some  time,  so  we  started 
back  for  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  and  the  first  night  we 
camped  at  the  place  where  Golden  now  stands,  the  place 
where  South  Clear  creek  flows  from  the  mountains. 

At  this  time  there  were  at  least  five  hundred  wagons 
to  be  seen  at  one  sight,  camped  on  this  creek.  We 
camped  near  the  crossing  of  Clear  creek,  and  there  was 
almost  a constant  stream  of  people  coming  in. 

Late  that  evening  four  men  came  into  camp  with  four 
yoke  of  oxen,  a wagon,  and  an  outfit  for  mining  and  with 
a good  suppy  of  grub — enough  to  last  them  a whole  sea- 
son. They  camped  that  night  a few  yards  from  us.  On 
finding  that  we  had  just  returned  from  the  mines  they 
came  over  to  learn  what  news  we  had.  We  told  them 
what  we  had  seen  and  what  Mr.  Russell  told  us. 

After  they  had  heard  our  story,  one  of  them  said: 
'‘Well,  boys,  I’m  a goin’  back  to  Missouri.  What  are 
the  balance  of  you  goin’  to  do?” 

They  talked  the  matter  over  for  some  time  and  finally 
all  concluded  that  old  Missouri  was  a pretty  good  country 
and  they  would  all  start  back  in  the  morning. 

One  of  the  crowd  said:  “What  will  we  do  with  our 
provisions?  We  can’t  haul  it  back  for  our  cattle  are  so 
tender  footed  now  that  they  can  hardly  travel.”  Another 
said:  “What  we  do  not  want  ourselves  we  will  give  tc 

those  hand-cart  men  over  there.”  But  another  one  in 
the  crowd  who  perhaps  was  more  like  the  dog  in  the 
manger  that  could  not  eat  the  hay  himself  nor  would  not 
let  the  cows  eat  it,  spoke  up  and  said:  “No,  we  will  not 

do  any  such  thing!  What  we  do  not  want  to  take  along 
to  eat  on  our  way  back  we  will  throw  in  the  creek.” 


292 


back  to  Bent’s  Fort. 


The  next  morning  after  they  had  eaten  breakfast  two 
of  them  got  up  into  the  wagon  and  selected  what  pro- 
visions they  wanted  to  take  along  with  them,  after  which 
they  threw  the  remainder  out  on  the  ground  and  the 
other  two  carried  it  and  threw  it  into  the  creek.  It  con- 
sisted of  flour,  dried  fruit,  bacon,  sugar,  and  I noticed 
one  ten  gallon  keg  of  molasses. 

I was  told  that  this  was  an  everyday  occurrence.  As 
we  had  seen  the  elephant  and  had  about  all  the  mining  we 
wanted,  for  awhile,  at  least,  we  saddled  up  our  horses 
and  started  for  Taos,  by  the  way  of  Bent’s  Fort. 

Three  days’  ride  took  us  to  Bent’s  Fort,  and  we  had  a 
thousand  and  one  questions  to  answer,  for  this  was  the 
first  news  they  had  got  from  the  mines  around  Pike’s 
Peak. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


A FIGHT  WITH  THE  SlOUX. HASA,  THE  MEXICAN  BOY, 

killed. — Mixed  up  with  emigrants  some  more. — 
Four  new  graves. — Successful  trading  with 

THE  KlOWAS. 


While  at  Fort  Bent  we  bargained  again  to  go  and 
trade  with  the  Kiowas,  on  the  same  terms  that  we  were 


Woman’s  Heart,  Kiowa  Chief. 


X 


WE  GO  TRADING. 


293 


employed  upon  the  preceding  winter,  and  we  could  com- 
mence at  any  time  we  pleased. 

We  then  started  for  Taos,  and  when  we  got  there  found 
Uncle  Kit  suffering  very  much  with  his  last  arrow  wound. 
The  doctor  had  told  him  that  it  had  never  healed  inside 
and  that  it  might  be  the  death  of  him. 

We  remained  at  Taos  until  time  to  go  to  the  fort, 
doing  nothing  in  particular,  but  hunting  a little  and 
occasionally  attending  a fandango.  During  this  time, 
however,  unbeknown  to  us  and  the  people  at  the  fort, 
the  Comanches  and  Sioux  had  been  fighting  among  them- 
selves, having  been  so  bold  as  to  come  on  to  the  Arkansas 
river  and  murder  a number  of  white  people.  Had  we 
known  this  we  should  not  have  made  the  attempt  to  go 
over  that  country.  Or  had  Bent  and  Roubidoux  known 
it  they  would  not  have  asked  us  to  go.  But,  somehow,  it 
seemed  always  my  luck  not  to  see  trouble  until  I was 
right  in  it. 

On  our  arrival  at  the  fort  they  were  anxious  to  get  us 
fitted  out  and  started  as  soon  as  possible.  Mr.  Roubi- 
doux said:  “Last  winter  you  made  fonr  trips  for  us; 

now  every  extra  trip  you  make  this  winter  we  will  give 
you  fifty  dollars  extra,  apiece,”  which  we  thought  a great 
layout. 

We  started  out  with  thirty-two  pack  animals  and  tii 
same  Mexican  boy  as  assistant  that  we  had  the  previous 
winter. 

While  passing  through  the  Comanche  country  we  me 
a young  man  of  that  tribe  with  whom  I was  on  good 
terms,  having  done  him  a favor  during  the  war  between 
his  tribe  and  the  Utes,  for  which  he  felt  very  grateful  to 


294 


STRUCK  A TRAIL. 


me.  After  learning  where  we  were  going,  he  said:  “Look 
out  for  the  Sioux,  for  they  have  killed  lots  of  white  peo- 
ple this  fall  near  Pawnee  Rock.”  But  he  did  not  tell  us 
that  his  tribe  and  the  Sioux  were  at  war. 

When  we  had  passed  nearly  through  the  Comanche 
country  we  thought  they  were  all  west  of  us,  for  we  saw 
where  a large  band  of  Indians  had  crossed  the  road  going 
South.  This  we  did  not  exactly  understand,  for  we  well 
knew  that  neither  the  Comanches  nor  Kiowas  had  hunt- 
parties  out  this  time  of  year,  as  the  buffalo  were  moving 
South,  and  the  Indians  could  kill  all  they  wanted  near 
the  villages. 

It  was  about  noon  when  we  crossed  the  Indian  trail, 
and  that  was  the  general  topic  of  conversation  the  bal- 
ance of  the  day.  If  they  had  been  on  foot  we  could 
easily  have  told  what  tribe  they  belonged  to  by  their  moc- 
casin tracks,  but  they  all  being  on  horseback  left  us  to 
guess. 

We  made  an  early  camp  so  that  if  it  became  neces- 
sary we  could  move  that  evening,  but  we  built  no  fire. 

As  soon  as  we  had  decided  on  our  camping  place  and 
while  Jim  and  Hasa,  the  Mexican  boy,  were  unpacking 
and  arranging  the  camp,  I rode  about  two  miles  from 
camp  to  high  ground  to  look  for  Indians.  When  I was 
n the  highest  point  I could  find,  I saw  a little  band  of 
Indians  coming  from  the  South,  and  making  their  way 
for  the  river  below  us.  They  were  about  ten  miles  away 
and  I could  not  tell  by  looking  through  my  glasses  just 
the  exact  number,  but  I could  see  them  plain  enough  to 
tell  they  were  not  Comanches. 

On  my  return  to  camp  I told  Jim  Bridger  what  I had 


discover  Sioux. 


295 


seen  and  he  at  once  declared  that  they  were  Sioux,  and 
said  we  were  sure  to  have  trouble  with  them  before  long, 

We  decid- 
ed to  remain 
there  that 
night,  and  I 
agreed  that  I 
would  stand 
guard  while 
Jim  and  Hasa 
slept.  I stood 
guard  until 
the  morning 
star  rose,  and 
I turned  in, 

telling  Jim  to  get  an  early  WM 
breakfast  and  call  me,  which  pBf  T\ 

he  did.  The  boy  brought  in 
our  horses,  saddled  them  and 
tied  them  near  camp.  The 
pack  animals  were  also  feed- 
ing near  camp. 

Just  as  we  had  finished  our  breakfast  and  it  was  get- 
ting good  daylight,  I cast  my  eyes  in  the  direction  of  our 
horses  and  saw  that  a number  of  them  had  raised  theii 
heads  and  were  looking  off  down  the  river  as  though  the}' 
had  seen  something.  I sprang  to  my  feet  and  saw  nine 
Indians  coming  up  the  river  in  the  direction  of  uur  camp, 
but  they  were  apparently  sneaking  along  slowly.  I could 
see  at  once  by  their  movements  that  they  did  not  think 
they  were  discovered  yet.  I said  to  Jim:  ‘ The  Sioux 


I stood  guard. 


THE  FIGHT. 


^96 


are  on  us,”  and  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  saying,  “Let  us 
mount  our  horses  and  meet  them  before  they  get  among 
our  pack  horses,”  which  we  did,  at  the  same  time  telling 
Hasa  to  keep  the  horses  together. 

We  started  to  meet  them  on  the  dead  run,  and  1 wish 
to. say  here  now,  that  Jim  Bridger,  though  a very  brave 
man,  was  very  exciteable  when  in  an  Indian  fight,  and 
as  we  started  I said  to  him:  “Now  Jim,  for  God’s 

sake  keep  cool  this  time  and  make  every  shot  count.” 

When  within  about  a hundred  yards  of  the  Indians, 
and  our  horses  doing  their  best,  I raised  my  rifle  and 
fired,  killing  the  leader  dead.  I then  drew  my  pistol  and 
raised  the  yell.  About  that  time,  from  some  cause,  Jim’s 
horse  shied  off  to  the  right,  so  when  we  met  the  Indians 
he  and  I were  about  thirty  or  forty  yards  apart.  Jim 
claimed  that  his  horse  scared  at  something  in  the  sage 
brush. 

Two  of  the  Indians  that  seemed  to  be  the  best 
mounted  made  a break  for  our  horses,  which  I discovered 
after  I had  fired  two  shots  from  my  pistol.  I wheeled 
my  horse  and  made  a rush  for  them,  leaving  Jim  to  take 
care  of  the  other  three  that  we  had  not  yet  killed.  But 
the  redskins  had  got  too  far  the  start  of  me,  and  being 
on  good  animals  they  beat  to  the  pack  horses,  and  before 
I got  in  gunshot  of  them  they  had  killed  both  the  boy 
and  his  horse.  Had  the  poor  boy  kept  his  presence  of 
mind  he  might  have  saved  himself,  but  I think  he  got 
excited  and  did  not  try  to  get  away. 

I got  one  of  them,  but  the  other  having  the  fastest 
horse,  outran  me  and  made  his  escape.  I think  he  had 
the  fastest  horse  I ever  saw  under  an  Indian  in  my  life. 


Kiowa  Squaws. 


DEATH  OF  HASA. 


297 


Jim  Bridger  killed  one  of  the  remaining  three,  and  the 
others  got  away.  Three  out  of  nine  escaped,  and  had  it 
not  been  for  Jim’s  horse  getting  scared  I don’t  think  they 
would  have  killed  our  Mexican  boy. 

We  dug  a grave  and  buried  the  poor  fellow  as  best 
we  could  under  the  circumstances,  scalped  the  Indians, 
packed  up  and  pulled  out,  leaving  the  poor  unfortunate 
lad  to  rest  on  the  lonely  banks  of  the  Arkansas  river. 
The  Indians  we  left  a prey  to  the  many  wild  animals  that 
roamed  the  hills  and  valleys. 

We  traveled  on  with  heavy  hearts,  expecting  at  any 
time  to  be  attacked  again  by  another  band  of  these 
“noble  red  men,”  fearing  that  we  might  not  be  so  suc- 
cessful the  next  time. 

In  the  afternoon  we  came  to  where  the  Indians  had 
had  another  fight  with  what  we  supposed,  and  which 
afterwards  proved  to  have  been 
emigrants,  returning  from  Pike’s 
Peak.  Here  we  saw  four  fresh 
graves,  and 
pearance  o f 
things  w e 
concluded 
that  the  fight 
had  been  in 
the  morning, 
which  also 
proved  to  be  Four  fresh  graves, 

the  case. 

We  were  now  satisfied  that  the  big  trail  we  had  seen 
the  day  before  was  made  by  Sioux,  and  that  they  had 


29$ 


MEET  WITH  EMIGRANTS. 


split  up  into  small  bands  to  catch  small  trains  of  emi- 
grants. 

Being  satisfied  that  these  emigrants  were  not  far 
ahead  of  us,  we  made  up  our  minds  to  push  on  and  try 
to  overhaul  them,  as  much  for  our  own  protection  as 
anything  else. 

Jim  Bridger  told  me  to  take  the  lead  and  ride  as  fast 
as  I wished,  and  he  would  make  the  pack  animals  keep 
up;  also  telling  me  when  on  high  ground  to  take  my 
glasses  and  look  for  Indians. 

After  traveling  about  two  hours,  putting  in  our  best 
licks,  we  came  in  sight  of  the  train.  We  then  pushed 
on  with  new  courage  and  overtook  the  emigrants  just  as 
they  were  going  into  camp  for  the  night.  I rode  up  and 
asked  if  they  had  any  objections  to  our  camping  with 
them.  “Certainly  not,”  replied  one  of  their  crowd, 
“and  if  you  can  fight  Indians  we  will  be  pleased  to  have 
you  camp  and  travel  with  us  also.” 

We  dismounted,  unpacked  and  turned  our  pack  ani- 
mals loose  with  the  emigrants’  stock,  but  picketed  our 
saddle  animals  near  camp.  Those  people  told  us  of  their 
fight  that  morning  with  the  Indians.  Just  as  they  were 
hitched  up  and  were  in  the  act  of  pulling  out,  the  Indians 
attacked  them,  about  forty  strong.  They  only  had 
twenty-four  men  and  the  Indians  killed  four  of  their 
number,  and  theirs  were  the  graves  we  had  seen  that 
morning. 

They  didn’t  have  an  Indian  scalp,  nor  did  they  know 
whether  or  not  they  had  killed  an  Indian. 

Jim  then  told  them  about  our  fight  with  the  nine 
Sioux  and  of  losing  our  Mexican  boy.  “But/*  said  h§, 


.U.'iOvva  Sgu aw  ijc.  uaiu  iJres5c 


HORSE-SHOE  BEND. 


299 


‘‘to  show  that  we  got  revenge  look  as  this  collection  of 
hair,”  and  he  produced  the  six  Indian  scalps  we  had 
taken. 

Jim  added  that  if  his  horse  had  not  got  scared  upon 
making  the  charge,  we  would  have  got  them  all  before 
they  could  have  reached  the  boy. 

They  offered  to  furnish  two  men  to  look  after  our 
pack-train  if  we  would  scout  for  their  train  and  travel 
with  them  as  far  as  we  were  to  go  their  route,  which  was 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles. 

There  were  eight  wagons  in  the  train,  composed  of 
two  and  four  horse  teams. 

When  we  were  ready  to  start  Jim  told  me  to  go 
ahead,  saying:  “You  have  a pair  of  glasses  and  your 

eyes  are  better  than  mine,  and  I will  bring  up  the  rear, 
so  there  will  be  no  danger  of  a surprise  party.” 

This  being  agreed  to,  I started  ahead  of  the  train  and 
rode  about  five  miles  in  advance  all  the  time,  keeping 
my  eyes  peeled  for  Indians.  In  the  forenoon  I saw  a 
small  band  of  the  savages,  but  they  were  a long  way  off 
and  were  traveling  in  the  same  direction  we  were.  I was 
sure  they  could  not  see  us,  for  I could  only  see  them 
faintly  through  my  glasses. 

That  evening  we  made  an  early  camp  at  a place  we 
named  Horse-shoe  Bend,  and  I am  told  that  the  place  is 
mentioned  yet  by  that  name.  It  is  a big  bend  in  the 
Arkansas  river  almost  encircling  two  or  three  hundred 
acres,  and  where  we  camped  it  was  not  more  than  a 
hundred  yards  across  from  one  turn  of  the  river  to  the 
other. 

That  night  we  drove  all  our  horses  into  the  bend  and 


300 


PAWNEE  ROCK. 


did  not  have  to  guard  them  or  keep  out  a camp  guard. 
I remained  out  in  the  hills,  about  three  miles  from  camp, 
until  dark,  selecting  a high  point  and  with  my  glasses 
watching  all  over  the  country  for  Indians.  The  boys 
were  all  well  pleased  when  I returned  and  told  them 
there  were  no  red-skins  anywhere  near,  and  that  they  all 
could  lie  down  and  sleep  that  night.  They  turned  in 
early. 

The  next  morning  we  broke  camp  early,  and  about 
eleven  o’clock  came  on  to  four  emigrant  wagons  return- 
ing from  Pike’s  Peak.  The  Indians  had  stolen  the  horses. 

There  were  sixteen  men  in  the  party  and  they  had 
been  there  three  days  and  had  not  been  two  miles  away 
from  camp.  They  made  some  kind  of  arrangement  with 
the  train  we  were  with  to  haul  their  things  to  St.  Joe, 
Missouri,  and  left  their  four  wagons  standing  by  the  road- 
side. 

We  had  no  more  trouble  while  with  this  train,  and 
everything  moved  along  nicely. 

When  we  were  near  Pawnee  Rock,  where  we  were  to 
leave  the  train,  and  some  twenty  miles  from  the  Kiowa 
village,  I met  about  thirty  Kiowa  Indians  going  out  to 
run  the  buffalo  near  there.  Of  course  they  all  knew  me, 
and  after  shaking  hands  we  stopped  to  await  the  arrival 
of  the  train.  When  it  came  in  sight  and  the  men  saw 
the  Indians  all  around  me  they  thought  I had  been  taken 
prisoner.  They  at  once  corralled  their  wagons  for  a 
fight,  and  all  the  talking  Jim  Bridger  could  do  would  not 
make  them  believe  otherwise,  until  he  rode  out  to  where 
we  were.  When  he  told  me  this  I thought  to  have  a 
little  sport  with  the  boys  before  leaving  the  train,  and  I 


AMONG  FRIENDS. 


301 


proposed  to  Jim  that  we  start  to  the  wagons  with  the  In- 
dians riding  on  either  side  of  us,  so  as  to  make  it  appear 
they  had  taken  both  of  us  prisoner.  But  Jim  thought  it 
would  not  do,  as  they  were  so  excited  they  would  shoot 
at  our  Indians  before  we  were  near  the  wagons.  So  we 
rode  to  the  train  and  told  the  emigrants  that  these  In- 
dians would  not  molest  them,  and  that  they  were  my 
friends. 

When  I told  the  Indians  the  cause  of  their  corraling 
their  wagons,  they  all  had  a hearty  laugh  and  called  the 
men  squaws.  The  Kiowas  said  that  their  people  would 
be  glad  to  see  us  at  their  village,  and  that  they  had 
plenty  of  robes  to  trade  for  beads,  rings  and  blankets. 
So  here  we  bade  the  emigrants  good-bye,  they  keeping 
the  Sante  Fe  trail  east,  while  we  turned  due  south,  and 
in  company  with  the  thirty  Kiowas,  rode  that  evening  to 
their  own  village.  Chief  Blackbird  met  us  at  the  outer 
edge  of  the  village  and  invited  us  to  his  wick-i-up.  We 
told  him  that  we  had  come  to  trade  with  his  people,  and 
that  in  four  days  we  would  be  ready  for  business. 

Jim  Bridger  and  I had  talked  the  matter  over  con- 
cerning this  tribe  and  the  Sioux,  for  we  well  knew  that 
if  they  and  the  Sioux  were  on  friendly  terms  we  would 
get  home  safe,  if  not,  we  would  have  a hard  time  of  it. 

I proposed  to  Jim  that  we  make  Blackbird  a present 
of  something,  and  while  he  was  in  the  best  of  humor  I 
would  ask  him  the  question.  Jim  thought  it  a capital 
idea,  and  before  supper  I went  to  our  cargo  and  got  three 
rings  and  three  strings  of  beads.  After  supper  I gave 
one  string  of  beads  and  one  ring  to  Blackbird,  one  to  his 
wife  and  one  to  his  eldest  daughter,  who  was  about 


302 


A FRIENDLY  CHAT 


grown.  We  then  sat  down  and  had  a social  smoke  and 
a friendly  chat.  By  this  time  Blackbird  was  beginning 
to  think  I 
was  a pretty 
good  fellow, 
so  I asked 
him  if  the 
Sioux'  were 
good  In- 
dians. H e 
said:  4 ‘Yes, 
the  Sioux 
are  my 
friends.” 

That  was 
all  I wanted 
to  know,  and 
I did  not 
ask  him  any 
more  ques- 
tions, nor 
did  I tell 

him  of  our  trouble  with  the  nine  Sioux.  I told  him  we 
wanted  to  hire  four  young  men  from  his  tribe  to  go  to 
the  fort  with  us.  He  said:  “All  right,  I’ll  see  to- 

morrow.” 

Our  idea  in  wanting  the  young  Kiowas  along,  after 
finding  they  were  on  good  terms  with  the  Sioux,  was 
that  we  knew  when  we  were  in  company  with  the  Kiowas 
the  Sioux  would  not  give  us  any  trouble. 

The  day  following,  in  the  afternoon,  Blackbird  came 


AN  AUCTION  SALE. 


303 


to  us  and  told  us  that  there  were  four  young  men  who 
wanted  to  go  with  us  and  asked  how  long  we  would  be 
gone.  We  told  him  we  might  be  gone  one  moon,  perhaps 
not  so  long.  He  wanted  to  know  what  Indian  country  we 
would  pass  through.  I told  him  none  but  the  Comanches, 
for  they  were  terribly  afraid  of  Navajoes.  We  assured 
him  that  we  would  not  pass  through  their  country. 

On  the  day  appointed  for  the  sale  of  our  goods,  the 
robes  came  in  by  the  hundreds.  I never  saw  anything 
equal  it. 

We  conducted  our  sale  something  like  an  auction.  I 
would  hold  up  a string  of  beads  and  show  them  to  the 
crowd;  an  Indian  would  step  forward  and  offer  a robe 
for  two  strings  of  beads.  Another  would  offer  a robe  for 
one  string.  This  was  our  idea  for  appointing  a certain 
day  for  trading  with  them,  for  the  more  Indians  present 
the  better  prices  we  were  able  to  get  for  our  goods. 

We  went  there  this  time  with  about  the  amount  of 
goods  we  had  always  taken  before  to  trade  for  a train 
load  of  robes,  and  we  sold  our  entire  stock  the  first  day. 
We  could  have  traded  ten  times  that  amount.  More- 
over, we  got  about  one-half  more  than  we  could  pack  at 
one  trip. 

We  knew  before  we  started  in  to  sell  that  there  was 
a greater  number  of  robes  in  the  village  than  at  any  time 
we  had  visited  it  before,  as  we  had  been  pretty  well  over 
the  village,  and  I had  never  seen  the  like  of  robes  and 
dry  buffalo  meat  before,  nor  have  I since.  Every  wick- 
i-upwas  hanging  full.  The  Indians  said  it  had  been  the 
best  season  for  buffalo  they  had  seen  for  years. 

I never  saw  people  more  busy  than  the  squaws  were. 


304 


WE  HAD  AN  ESCORT. 


All  were  dressing  buffalo  hides,  and  every  family  had 
from  three  to  one  dozen  robes,  and  this  was  the  best 
day’s  sale  we  ever  had,  as  it  seemed  that  the  Indians 
were  crazy  for  the  rings  and  beads. 

I just  mention  these  facts  to  show  the  reader  how 
the  people  took  advantage  of  those  Indians,  for  at  that 
time  they  did  not  know  the  value  of  money  and  had  no 
use  for  it  except  as  ornaments.  They  would  pay  a big 
price  for  a half  dollar,  but  every  one  they  got  hold  of 
they  would  hammer  out  flat,  punch  two  holes  through  it 
and  put  it  on  a string;  then  the  chief  or  some  of  his  fam- 
ily would  wear  them  on  their  backs  or  fasten  them  to 
their  hair  and  let  them  hang  down  their  backs.  I have 
seen  strings  of  flattened  out  half  dollars  two  feet  long 
worn  by  the  chief  or  some  member  of  his  family. 

When  we  went  to  pack  up  we  could  only  get  two- 
thirds  of  our  robes  on  the  animals  so  we  left  the  remain- 
der in  charge  of  Blackbird,  and  he  agreed  to  look  after 
them  until  we  returned.  I told  him  if  he  would  take 
good  care  of  them  I would  bring  him  a big  butcher  knife 
when  I came  back. 

So  we  started  for  Bent’s  Fort  accompanied  by  four 
young  Kiowas.  We  had  loaded  our  horses  unusually 
heavy  this  trip,  each  animal  packing  thirty  robes. 

Two  of  the  Indians  rode  in  front  of  the  pack-train 
with  me  and  the  other  two  behind  with  Jim.  Our  idea 
in  traveling  that  way  was  that  in  case  we  should  meet  a 
band  of  Sioux,  these  young  Indians  would  tell  them  we 
were  their  friends,  and  no  matter  how  bitter  they  felt 
toward  us  they  would  pass  on. 

We  traveled  three  days  before  we  saw  any  Sioux.  It 


MEET  MORE  SlOUX. 


305 


was  our  custom  to  always  stop  and  unpack  and  let  our 
horses  rest  and  feed  about  an  hour. 

That  day  we  had  just  unpacked  and  turned  our  horses 
loose  to  feed  and  were  ready  to  eat  a cold  lunch,  when 
we  looked  up  the  ridge  and  saw  twenty  Sioux  Indians 
coming  down  the  ridge  in  the  direction  of  our  camp.  I 
told  one  of  the  Indians  that  we  had  better  go  and  meet 
them.  He  said  he  would  go  and  for  me  to  stay  in  camp. 
I told  him  to  tell  them  to  come  down  to  camp  and  get 
something  to  eat.  So  he  started  off  in  a trot  to  meet 
them,  and  when  he  came  up  to  them  he  stood  and  talked 
with  them  for  some  time,  after  which  they  turned  and 
rode  off  in  another  direction.  When  the  Indian  boy  re- 
turned I asked  him  why  they  did  not  come  down  to  camp 
and  have  some  dinner.  He  said  they  had  plenty  to  eat 
and  were  in  a hurry. 

Jim  Bridger  said  to  me  in  our  own  language:  “If  we 

had  not  had  those  young  Kiowas  with  us  by  this  time  we 
would  have  been  in  a hurry,  too.”  These  were  the  last 
Sioux  we  saw  on  the  whole  trip. 

When  we  returned  to  the  fort  and  reported  our  trou- 
bles to  Col.  Bent  and  Mr.  Roubidoux,  they  felt  very  bad 
over  the  loss  of  the  Mexican  boy,  Hasa,  but  they  com- 
plimented us  on  the  way  we  had  managed.  They  asked 
me  what  1 had  agreed  to  pay  the  Indians.  I told  them 
I had  not  made  any  bargain  whatever,  and  that  we  had 
not  agreed  to  pay  them  anything,  nor  had  they  asked  it. 
But  we  thought  that  under  the  circumstances  we  did  not 
consider  it  safe  to  attempt  to  make  another  trip  that  fall 
or  winter  without  an  escort  of  that  kind,  and  we  couldn’t 
expect  those  Indians  to  make  the  trips  free  of  charge. 


306 


we  hire  Indians. 


Col.  Bent  told  me  to  make  my  own  bargain  with  them, 
and  he  would  pay  the  bill  whatever  it  might  be. 

This  was  the  first  time  these  young  Indians  had  ever 
been  in  civilization,  so  I took  them  around  the  place  and 
took  particular  pains  to  show  them  everything.  When 
we  had  been  all  around  and  I had  showed  them  every- 
thing out  doors,  I took  them  into  the  kitchen  of  the 
hotel.  When  they  saw  the  cook  getting  supper  on  the 
stove  they  said  it  was  no  good,  for  they  could  not  see 
the  fire  and  they  did  not  understand  how  cooking  could 
he  done  without  it. 

After  they  had  seen  all  there  was  to  be  seen  I took 
them  in  where  the  two  proprietors  were,  and  after  telling 
them  that  they  would  hire  them  all  winter,  providing 
they  did  not  ask  too  much,  I asked  them  what  they  were 
going  to  charge  us  for  the  trip  they  had  already  made. 

The  most  intelligent  one  spoke  up  and  said:  “Give 

me  one  string  of  beads  and  one  butcher  knife  for  the  trip 
already  made,  and  give  me  one  butcher  knife  for  the  next 
trip.”  I then  asked  the  others  if  they  were  satisfied  with 
that,  and  they  said  they  were;  so  I paid  them  off  by 
giving  them  a butcher  knife  that  cost  about  fifty  cents  in 
St.  Louis  and  one  string  of  beads  that  would  perhaps 
cost  ten  cents.  They  thought  they  had  been  well  paid 
for  their  trouble,  and  I could  see  that  they  had  not  ex- 
pected so  much.  This  was  no  doubt  their  first  experience 
in  hiring  out. 

The  next  morning  Col.  Bent  and  Mr.  Roubidoux  said 
to  Jim  and  I:  “Now  boys,  we  will  make  you  a present,” 
telling  us  that  their  horses  were  in  the  corrall,  and  for  us 
to  go  and  pick  out  a saddle  horse  apiece.  They  told  us 


MY  NEW  HORSE. 


307 


that  all  the  horses  in  the  corrall  were  theirs,  and  we 
might  take  our  choice,  and  that  we  could  turn  our  other 
horses  into  the  herd  for  as  long  as  we  liked. 

I selected  a black  horse  and  saddled  him,  and  he 
seemed  to  be  quiet  and  gentle. 

There  were  some  trappers  at  the  fort  who  were  going 
to  South  Park  to  trap  the  following  winter.  When  I led 
the  horse  out  to  get  on  him  they  asked  if  it  was  mine. 
“Yes,”  I said.  They  asked  what  price  I had  set  on  him, 
and  I said  one  hundred  dollars.  They  said  they  would 
give  me  that  for  him  if  I would  wait  for  my  money  until 
spring  when  they  returned  from  South  Park.  I asked 
them  if  they  were  going  to  trap  for  Col.  Bent  and  Mr. 
Roubidoux,  and  they  said  they  were.  We  then  walked 
into  the  store  and  I asked  Col.  Bent  and  Mr.  Roubidoux 
if  they  would  go  these  men’s  security  for  one  hundred 
dollars.  They  said  they  would,  and  I told  the  trappers 
the  horse  was  theirs.  Mr.  Roubidoux  asked  me  if  it  was 
the  horse  he  had  given  me.  I told  him  it  was  and  he 
said:  “You  did  well,  for  I bought  that  horse  of  an  emi- 

grant last  summer  and  have  never  been  able  to  get  any 
money  out  of  him.  I think  yon  will  have  to  take  a lot 
of  my  horses  to  sell  on  commission,  for  I see  right  now 
you  can  beat  me  selling  horses  all  hollow.” 

We  remained  at  the  Port  three  days  this  time,  after 
which  we  rigged  up  and  started  for  the  Kiowa  nation 
again  with  more  goods  to  trade  for  buffalo  robes.  We 
made  the  tnp  in.  eleven  days,  being  the  quickest  we  had 
yet  made  ever  the  road. 

We  found  the  chief  in  an  excellent  humor,  and  he 


308 


back  at  Kiowa  village. 


was  as  well  pleased  over  his  new  butcher  knife  as  a boy 
would  be  over  his  first  pair  of  red  topped  boots. 

We  found  the  Indians  anxious  to  trade  robes  for  our 
trinkets  and  we  had  no  trouble  in  getting  a load  and 
more  than  we  could  pack  again.  We  made  five  trips 
that  fall  and  winter  with  the  very  best  success,  keeping 
those  same  four  Indians  with  us  all  winter. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


A trip  to  Fort  Kearney — The  General  endorses 

US  AND  WE  PILOT  AN  EMIGRANT  TRAIN  TO  CALIFOR- 
NIA.— Woman  who  thought  I was  “no  gentle- 
man.”— A CAMP  DANCE. 


Jim  Bridger  proposed  that  he  and  I make  a trip  to 
Fort  Kearney  together,  and  remain  there  until  the  emi- 
grants began  to  come  along,  thinking  that  perhaps  the 
Sioux  would  be  so  bad  on  the  plains  again  that  summer  that 
we  might  get  a layout  scouting  for  trains  going  to  Cali- 
fornia. Both  of  us  were  well  acquainted  with  a greater 
part  of  the  country  to  be  traveled  over,  and  there  were 
few  other  men  as  well  posted  as  to  where  the  Indians 


The  Attack  Upon  the  Train 


Fort  Kearney, 


309 


were  likely  to  make  attacks,  which  was  one  of  the  most 
essential  requirements  in  scouting  with  a train. 

About  the  first  of  April  we  started,  by  the  way  of 
Denver  City,  for  Fort  Kearney,  and  as  it  had  been  nearly 
a year  since  we  had  seen  the  first  named  place  we  found 
quite  a change  there.  Instead  of  a tented  town,  of 
shreds  and  patches,  we  saw  a thriving  village  that  had 
some  quite  comfortable  wooden  houses  and  an  air  of  dis- 
tinct civilization.  To-day  Denver  is  probably  the  best 
built  city  of  its  size  in  the  world,  but  there  was  a time 
after  this  present  visit  of  mine  and  Bridger’s  when  the 
place  became  almost  deserted.  That  was  when  the 
Union  Pacific  railroad  was  being  constructed  to  Chey- 
enne, leaving  Denver  one  hundred  and  eight  miles  due 
south.  Then,  all  the  people  in  Denver  who  could  raise 
any  sort  of  a team,  took  their  household  goods  and  gods, 
and  in  some  cases  the  houses,  and  struck  out  for  Chey- 
enne. Many  who  were  too  poor  to  get  away  became 
enormously  rich,  afterward,  from  that  very  fact,  for  they 
became  possessed  of  the  ground,  and  when  the  Kansas 
Pacific  railroad  was  projected,  and  afterward  constructed, 
Denver  took  on  such  a boom  that  real  estate  nearly  went 
out  of  sight  in  value.  The  poor  ones  became  wealthy, 
and  nearly  all  of  the  Cheyenne  stampeders  returned. 
Following  this,  some  years  afterward,  the  discovery  of 
silver  carbonates  in  California  Gulch,  where  Leadville 
now  stands,  gave  Denver  another  boom  that  made  the 
place  the  Queen  city  of  the  Plains,  for  good  and  all. 

We  reached  Fort  Kearney  before  the  emigrants  had 
got  that  far  out,  and  found  Gen.  Kearney  in  command. 
He  was  glad  to  see  us,  and  told  us  that  if  we  needed  any 


3io 


visit  Gen.  Kearney, 


references  to  send  the  parties  to  him  and  he  would  give 
us  a send-off  that  would  be  likely  to  fix  us  all  right,  and 
we  knew  that  it  would. 

“I  predict  more  trouble,  ” said  he,  “on  the  plains  this 
summer  than  there  ever  has  been  in  any  season  previous 
to  this,  from  the  fact  that  the  northern  Sioux  are,  even 
at  this  early  date,  breaking  up  into  little  bands,  and  no 
doubt  for  the  express  purpose  of  capturing  small  bands 
of  emigrants  crossing  the  plains  the  coming  summer.” 

The  first  train  that  came  along  was  from  Illinois  and 
Missouri.  It  was  on  the  way  to  California  and  was  com- 
posed of  sixty-four  wagons.  The  company  was  made  up 
of  men,  women  and  children,  nearly  all  of  the  men  hav- 
ing families.  They  camped  about  a mile  from  the  fort, 
and  at  near  sundown  Gen.  Kearney  proposed  that  we  go 
over  and  see  the  ladies.  So  we  rode  over — the  General, 
Jim  Bridger  and  I. 

Arriving  at  the  camp  we  were  astonished  at  seeing 
that  the  emigrants  had  no  system  whatever  in  forming 
their  camp  or  corralling  their  wagons  and  stock,  all  being 
scattered  here  and  there,  hodge-podge. 

I remarked  to  Gen.  Kearney  that  they  had  certainly 
not  met  with  any  trouble  from  Indians  so  far,  else  they 
would  have  been  more  careful.  The  General  replied  that 
they  would  learn  before  they  got  much  further. 

When  we  arrived  at  their  camp  quite  a crowd  gath- 
ered around  us,  and  among  the  balance  was  one  man 
apparently  forty  years  old,  who  walked  up  to  Gen.  Kear- 
ney and  said:  “How  are  you,  John?”  that  being  the 

General’s  first  name. 

Gen.  Kearney  looked  at  him  for  a moment,  then 


COMPLIMENTED. 


3*  * 

shook  hands  with  him  and  said:  “You  seem  to  know 

me,  but  you  have  the  best  of  me.  If  I ever  saw  you  be- 
fore I don’t  remember  when  or  where.” 

The  gentleman  then  said:  “When  we  used  to  go  to 

school  together  you  were  the  only  boy  in  my  class  that  I 
could  not  throw  down,  but  I believe  that  I could  to-day.” 
They  had  been  schoolmates  in  Ohio  and  this  was  the 
first  time  they  had  met  since  they  quit  school.  “Of 
course,”  said  Gen.  Kearney,  “you  had  the  advantage  of 
me,  for  you  knew  I was  out  here,  while  I never  dreamed 
of  you  being  in  this  country.” 

We  soon  learned  that  the  emigrants  had  heard  about 
the  hostility  of  the  Sioux  Indians,  and  were  dreading 
them  very  much. 

After  the  General  and  his  old  schoolmate  talked  over 
by-gone  days  for  awhile  they  commenced  asking  him  all 
sorts  of  questions  relative  to  the  Indians  on  ahead. 

The  General  gave  his  views  regarding  the  outlook  for 
the  coming  summer,  and  after  having  “said  his  say” 
about  the  noble  red  men,  a number  of  the  emigrants 
thought  they  would  turn  back  the  next  morning. 

Gen.  Kearney  said  to  them:  “Here  are  two  as  good 

mountainers  as  may  be  found  west  of  the  Missouri  river 
and  I believe  that  you  could  hire  them  to  go  the  entire 
trip  with  you  at  a reasonable  figure,  and  I feel  sure  they 
will  be  able  to  render  you  valuable  service,  while  passing 
through  the  Indian  country,  they  being  well  posted  as  to 
where  the  Indians  would  be  most  likely  to  make  an 
attack.  They  are  also  well  informed  as  to  water,  wood 
and  grass,  and  the  different  drives  to  be  made  betwen 
camping  places,  &c.” 


312 


EAT  WITH  EMIGRANTS. 


When  we  were  just  ready  to  mount  our  horses  to  re- 
turn to  the  Fort  for  supper,  a number  of  the  men  came  to 
Jim  and  me  and  asked  how  much  per  month  or  per  day 
we  would  take  to  go  with  them  as  scouts  through  the 
Indian  country.  We  told  them  to  get  their  supper  over 
and  call  their  men  together,  and  we  would  go  back  to  the 
Fort  and  get  our  supper,  after  which  we  would  come 
down  to  their  camp  again  and  talk  matters  over  and  see 
if  we  could  make  a bargain.  By  this  time  a number  of 
ladies  had  gathered  around,  and  among  them  was  an  old 
lady  who  said:  “You  two  gentlemen  with  buckskin 

coats  on  can  come  and  take  supper  with  us  in  our  tent.” 

Gen.  Kearney  said:  “You  had  better  accept  the 

lady’s  hospitaltty,  for  you  have  a great  deal  to  talk 
about.” 

We  thought  this  a capital  idea  and  took  supper  with 
the  emigrants,  and  the  General  returned  to  his  quarters. 
But  before  going  he  gave  all,  both  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
a cordial  invitation  to  come  to  the  Fort  the  next  day  and 
pay  him  a friendly  visit. 

After  all  were  through  eating  supper,  Jim  Bridger 
asked  how  many  men  they  had  in  their  train,  but  no  one 
was  able  to  tell.  When  he  asked  who  their  captain  was 
a man  replied  that  they  did  not  know  they  had  to  have  a 
captain.  Jim  with  an  oath  said:  “What  in  the  name 

of  God  do  you  think  those  soldiers  over  there  would  do 
without  a captain,  or  at  least  an  officer  of  some  kind?' 

Then  he  told  them  they  had  better  form  in  line  and 
see  how  many  men  they  had,  and  elect  five  men  to  trans- 
act business  with  us.  They  formed  in  line  and  counted 
and  there  were  one  hundred  and  forty  men  in  the  train, 


ENGAGED  AS  SCOUTS. 


313 


and  not  one  of  them  had  ever  been  on  the  plains  before, 
and,  of  course,  not  one  of  them  had  ever  seen  a hostile 
Indian. 

They  then  proceeded  to  elect  the  five  men  to  transact 
the  business  with  us,  after  which  Jim  turned  to  me  and 
said:  “Now  make  your  proposition.”  I suggested  that 

as  he  was  the  oldest,  he  should  go  ahead  and  make  the 
bargain,  whereupon  he  said:  “All  right.  Gentlemen, 

I will  make  you  an  offer;  if  you  see  fit  to  accept  it  all 
right,  and  if  not  there  is  no  harm  done.  We  will  scout 
for  you  for  six  dollars  per  day  from  here  to  the 
foot  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  Mountains,  and  you  board  us 
and  herd  our  horses  with  yours.  We  must  have  charge 
of  the  entire  train,  and  we  want  at  least  two  or  three 
days  in  which  to  organize  and  drill  before  leaving  this 
camp,  and  after  the  lapse  of  five  days  if  this  community 
is  not  satisfied  with  our  work,  we  will  quit,  and  not  charge 
you  a cent  for  what  we  shall  have  done  at  that  time,  and 
if  our  work  is  satisfactory  we  will  expect  our  money 
every  Saturday  night,  for  it  is  the  money  we  are  after  and 
not  the  glory.  Now,  gentlemen,  take  the  matter  under 
consideration  and  give  us  an  answer  to-morrow  morning 
after  breakfast.” 

On  the  following  morning  one  of  the  men  from  the 
train  came  to  the  Fort  very  early  to  inform  us  that  they 
had  decided  to  accept  our  proposition. 

We  told  him  to  go  back  to  camp  and  have  all  the 
teams  hitched  up  and  we  would  be  down  after  breakfast 
and  put  in  a few  hours  drilling  the  teamsters. 

We  numbered  the  wagons  by  putting  the  figures  on 
the  end-gates  of  the  wagons,  telling  each  teamster  to 


314 


FORMING  A CORRALL. 


remember  his  number,  and  when  forming  a corrall,  no 
matter  what  the  occasion  might  be,  for  the  even  num- 
bers to  turn  to  the  right  and  the  odd  numbers  to  the  left, 
forming  a circle  with  the  teams  inside  of  the  corrall  or 
circle  of  wagons. 

For  the  benefit  of  the  reader  who  has  not  had  the  for- 
tune— or  misfortune,  whichever  he  deems  it — to  have 
traveled  in  an  Indian  country  where  the  corrals  are  neces- 
sary in  order  to  protect  the  traveler  from  the  Indians,  I 
will  give  a more  detailed  description  of  how  they  are 
formed: 

By  having  each  wagon  numbered  every  man  knew 
his  place  in  the  train,  and  when  it  was  necessary  to  cor- 
rell,  one-half  of  the  teams  would  turn  to  the  right  and 
the  other  half  to  the  left.  Each  would  swing  out  a little 
distance  from  the  road  and  the  two  front  teams — num- 
bers one  and  two — would  drive  up  facing  each  other.  All 
the  rest  of  the  wagons  would  drive  up  forming  a circle, 
with  the  teams  on  the  inside  ot  the  corrall,  and  the  back 
or  hind  ends  of  the  wagons  pointing  outwards.  The  two 
hindmost  teams  would  now  swing  together  as  in  the 
front,  closing  the  rear  gap  in  the  circle.  This  also  served 
the  purpose  of  a pen  in  which  to  run  the  stock  in  the 
event  of  an  attack,  thus  preventing  the  possibility  of  a 
stampede. 

Our  object  in  drilling  the  teamsters  was  to  teach  them 
how  to  form  a corrall  quickly  in  case  of  an  attack  while 
under  way. 

After  drilling  a while  we  told  the  committee  to  select 
eight  men  from  their  train  to  assist  in  scouting,  we  pre- 
ferring young  men  with  horses  of  their  own  or  such  as 


ORGANIZED. 


315 


could  get  horses,  and  those  men  to  be  exempt  from  guard 
duty  except  in  cases  of  emergency.  They  proceeded  at 
once  to  select  the  eight  men  for  assistant  scouts,  after 
which  we  told  thereto  appoint  a sergeant,  or  whatever 
they  chose  to  call  him,  to  command,  respectively,  every 
platoon  of  twenty  men,  the  hundred  and  forty  being 
organized  in  such  squads. 

This  was  the  hardest  task,  apparently,  for  the  com- 
mittee, as  no  one  Wanted  to  serve  in  that  capacity,  each 
one  having  some  excuse  or  other,  but  they  finally  com- 
pleted the  appointments  and  then  Jim  said  to  me: 

Now,  Will,  you  take  entire  charge  of  the  scouts,  and 
I will  take  charge  of  the  balance  of  the  men,”  telling  me 
that  in  the  day  time  on  the  move  he  would  assist  me  in 
scouting  all  he  could,  but  after  the  train  was  corralled  to 
handle  the  scouts  to  suit  myself. 

I told  the  newly  appointed  scouts  to  saddle  their 
horses  and  we  would  have  a little  exercise.  I took  a 
piece  of  pine  board  box  cover,  sharpened  it  and  stuck  it 
into  a prairie  dog  hole.  This  board  was  about  twelve 
inches  wide  and  two  or  two  and  a half  feet  long.  I drew 
a mark  about  thirty  feet  from  the  board,  telling  them  to 
fire  when  they  reached  this  mark.  I had  them  all  mount 
and  start  about  a hundred  yards  from  the  board,  and 
when  at  this  mark  to  fire  at  the  board  while  at  full  speed, 
each  taking  his  turn. 

Out  of  eight  shots  only  one  hit  the  board,  and  that 
was  made  by  the  last  one  that  fired. 

I told  them  that  such  shooting  would  never  do  at  all 
if  they  expected  to  fight  Indians,  so  I mounted  my  horse 
and  asked  them  which  hand  I should  use  my  pistol  in. 


3 1 6 


DRILLING  THE  SCOUTS* 


All  cried  out:  “Use  your  left  hand!”  I said:  All  right, 

I will  shoot  across  my  bridle  reins.”  I had  one  of  the 


I put  two  bullets  through  the  board  while  passing. 


boys  get  on  his  horse  and  whip  mine  down  to  a dead  run, 
and  with  my  pistol  in  my  left  hand  I f ut  two  bullet  holes 
through  the  board  while  passing  it. 

This  was  a surprise  to  all  of  them  as  they  had  never 
seen  shooting  done  that  way  before,  but  they  were  all 
eager  to  learn. 

After  practicing  this  feat  awhile  I started  in  to  teach 
them  to  mount  quick.  This  was  the  hardest  thing  for 
them  to  learn,  and  all  of  their  horses  were  trained  to 
stand  perfectly  still  until  they  straightened  up  in  the 
saddle. 

And  here  I will  say  that  in  scouting  it  is  yen  n"s.entiaj 
to  have  a horse  that  is  quick  to  start. 


LEARNING  TO  MOUNT 


317 


The  way  we  used  to  train  our  horses  to  start  was  by 
having  some  one  stand  behind  them  with  a whip  and 
strike  them  just  as  we  jumped  into  the  saddle.  This 
taught  both  horse  and  rider  to  be  very  agile,  as  we  would 
have  to  get  on  our  horses  almost  on  the  dead  run  when 
in  close  quarters  with  the  Indians. 

That  evening  near  sunset  another  train  drove  up  from 
Missouri.  There  were  twenty  wagons  and  they  were  de- 
sirous of  joining  our  train.  The  committee  came  to  us 
to  see  what  they  thought  of  letting  them  in.  We  told 
the  committee  that  we  were  willing  to  take  them  in  by 
their  paying  one  dollar  a day.  This  being  agreeable  to 


the  committee  and 
newcomers  agreeing 
to  pay  the  per  diem 
we  took  them  in. 

The  morning  of 
the  third  day,  after 
organizing  we  pulled  out,  Jim  Bridger  staying  with  the 
train  all  day,  I dropped  four  of  my  men  behind  the 


Another  train  drove  up  from  Missouri 


318 


WE  START. 


train,  telling  them  to  keep  about  half  a mile  from  it  and 
at  the  first  sight  of  Indians  to  get  to  the  train  as  quick  as 
possible  and  report  to  Jim  Bridger,  who  would  signal  me 
at  once  by  firing  two  shots  in  quick  succession,  otherwise 
there  was  to  be  no  shooting  in  the  train  during  the  time 
we  were  in  a hostile  country. 

All  went  smoothly  until  the  fifth  day.  We  were  then 
on  the  north  side  of  the  South  Platte  and  my  new  assist- 
ant scouts  were  beginning  by  this  time — or  at  least  some 
of  them  were — to  be  anxious  for  a little  sport  with  the 
Indians. 

I had  told  them  the  day  before  that  they  might  expect 
to  see  Indians  at  any  time  now,  as  we  were  then  in  the 
Sioux  country. 

The  morning  of  the  fifth  day  I started  two  scouts 
ahead  of  the  train,  telling  them  to  keep  about  two  miles 
ahead  of  the  wagons,  two  to  drop  behind  the  train  and 
two  south,  and  to  keep  on  the  highest  ground  they  could 
find.  Taking  the  other  two  with  me  I struck  out  north 
of  the  road,  this  being  where  I most  expected  to  find  In- 
dians. After  riding  five  or  six  miles  we  came  up  on  to  a 
high  point  where  I took  out  my  glasses  and  made  a sur- 
vey of  the  surrounding  country.  I saw  a large  band  of 
Indians  traveling  almost  parallel  with  the  wagon  road 
and  moving  in  the  same  direction  the  train  was  going. 
I should  judge  them  to  have  been  about  ten  miles  away. 
Anyway,  they  were  so  far  that  I could  not  tell  their  num- 
ber, but  I thought  there  were  in  the  neighborhood  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  in  the  band. 

I showed  them  to  my  associates  by  allowing  them  to 
look  through  my  glasses.  I then  showed  them  a route 


discovered  Indians. 


3*9 

to  take  and  designated  a certain  point  for  them  to  go  to 
and  remain,  until  I should  come  to  them,  and  I started 
alone  after  the  Indians  to  try  to  get  closer  to  them  and 
also  get  their  general  course  of  travel  so  as  to  come  to 
some  conclusion  as  to  what  their  intentions  were.  I suc- 
ceeded in  getting  within  about  four  miles  of  them  and  of 
getting  a good  view  of  them  as  they  were  passing  over  a 
little  ridge.  I saw  that  they  had  no  squaws  with  them, 
and  I knew  then  they  were  on  the  war-path. 

After  taking  a good  look  at  the  redskins  I got  back  to 
my  two  scouts  as  quickly  as  possible.  Shortly  after 
joining  them  I saw  nine  Indians  coming  toward  the  road, 
about  three  or  four  miles  away  from  us,  we  being  be- 
tween them  and  the  road,  making  them  about  eight  miles 
from  the  road. 

I started  one  of  my  men  to  the  train  on  a double 
quick  to  inform  Jim  Bridger  of  what  we  had  seen  and 
also  to  bring  at  least  four  or  five  good  men  and  horses 
back  with  him,  telling  him  where  to  meet  us  on  his 
return. 

I was  thoroughly  convinced  that  these  nine  Indians 
we  had  seen  were  scouts  for  the  large  band  ahead  of  us, 
and  my  object  was  to  capture  them  and  not  let  one  of 
them  get  back  to  the  big  band  of  warriors  that  we  had 
seen. 

The  other  scout  and  I secreted  our  horses  and  watched 
the  nine  Indians  on  the  sly,  until  the  other  man  returned 
bringing  three  men  with  him  from  the  train.  By  this 
time  the  Indians  were  within  two  miles  of  the  train,  and 
we  had  swung  around  so  as  to  come  in  behind  them  and 
were  only  about  a half  mile  from  them.  We  followed 


A SCRIMMAGE. 


320 

them  leisurely  until  they  were  passing  over  a little  ridge 
near  the  train,  when  we  put  spurs  to  our  horses  and  rode 
at  a lively  gait.  I told  my  men  to  save  their  ammunr 
tion  until  they  were  near  them  and  take  good  aim  so  thLt 
every  man  would  get  his  Indian  the  first  shot,  and  to  not 
get  excited  or  scared,  for  if  all  would  keep  cool  we  would 
be  able  to  get  all  of  them  without  much  trouble. 

It  so  happened  that  just  as  we  came  on  to  the  ridge 
that  the  Indians  had  passed  over  a few  minutes  before, 
they  came  in  sight  of  the  train,  which  was  then  not  more 
than  half  a mile  away.  They  stopped  and  were  looking 
at  the  train. 

Jim  Bridger’s  quick  eye  had  caught  sight  of  them,  and 
not  knowing  but  it  was  the  big  band  coming,  he  had  the 
wagons  corralled  to  prepare  for  an  attack. 

When  we  came  to  the  top  of  the  ridge  mentioned  we 
were  not  more  than  three  hundred  yards  away  from  them 
and  I immediately  ordered  a charge. 

I was  on  Pinto,  and  he  knowing  what  was  up,  was 
ready  for  a chase.  In  fact,  I could  not  have  held  him 
had  I been  so  disposed. 

The  warriors  were  so  engrossed  looking  at  the  train, 
no  doubt  thinking  what  a picnic  they  would  have  with 
them,  that  they  did  not  see  us  until  I was  almost  ready 
to  fire.  I was  somewhat  in  advance  of  the  rest,  my 
horse  being  the  fleeter,  and  when  within  about  a hun- 
dred yards  I raised  in  my  stirrups,  brought  my  rifle  to 
my  shoulder  and  fired,  killing  one  Indian,  and  the  boys 
claimed  that  I killed  a horse  from  under  another  one  at 
the  same  time.  They  were  sure  the  same  bullet  killed 
both,  for  both  fell  at  the  crack  of  my  rifle. 


r 


KILLED  NINE  INDIANS. 


321 


As  soon  as  I had  fired  I drew  my  pistol  and  told  them 
to  do  likewise,  also  telling  them  to  be  sure  and  make 
every  shot  count. 

If  ever  I saw  a horse  that  enjoyed  that  kind  of  sport 
— if  I might  call  it  such — it  was  old  Pinto. 

The  Indians  made  an  effort  to  turn  to  the  north,  but 
I was  on  the  left  of  my  men  and  my  horse  was  fleet 
enough  to  head  them  off.  I crowded  them  so  close  that 
they  headed  straight  for  the  train;  in  fact,  I think  they 
were  so  scared  that  they  did  not  know  where  they  were 
going. 

At  the  first  fire  with  our  pistols  three  of  the  Indians 
fell,  leaving  four  yet  mounted  and  one  on  foot — the  one 
whose  horse  I had  shot  at  the  first  fire.  I saw  the  In- 
dian on  foot  making  for  some  sage  brush  near  by  and 
sang  out  to  a man  named  Saunders,  who  was  on  a fine 
grey  horse,  to  run  that  Indian  down,  which  he  did,  kill- 
ing him  the  second  shot,  so  he  said  afterwards. 

About  this  time  I saw  Jim  coming,  with  six  or  eight 
men  following  him  closely.  Then  we  all  commenced 
yelling  at  the  top  of  our  voices,  which  excited  the  In- 
dians still  more,  Whether  they  saw  our  men  coming  or 
not  I do  not  know,  but  two  of  them  ran  almost  right  up 
to  them  and  were  shot  down  at  a distance  of  thirty  or 
forty  yards. 

We  succeeded  in  getting  the  other  two,  not  letting 
one  escape  to  tell  the  tale;  thereby  accomplishing  just 
what  I started  to  do  when  I first  got  sight  of  them. 

After  the  last  Indian  had  fallen,  I rode  to  where  Jim 
was  and  told  him  of  the  big  band  of  Indians  I had  seen 
that  day,  and  suggested  that  we  had  better  go  to  Barrel 


322 


TOOK  THEIR  SCALPS. 


Springs  that  night,  which  was  about  four  miles  further 
on,  as  I thought  that  the  best  place  to  be  in  camp  in 
case  we  were  attacked  by  the  Indians.  In  this  he  agreed 
with  me. 

By  this  time  my  men  were  all  on  the  battle-field,  and 
most  of  the  men  from  the  train,  also  a number  of  the 
women  who  had  come  out  to  see  the  dead  Indians.  I 
asked  one  of  the  boys  to  go  with  me  to  scalp  the  Indians, 
after  which  I would  go  to  the  train  as  I wanted  to  change 
horses,  but  none  of  them  knew  how  to  scalp  an  Indian, 
so  Jim  and  I had  to  teach  them  how. 

One  old  man,  who  was  looking  on,  said:  4 ‘I  would 

not  mind  shooting  an  Indian,  but  I would  not  like  to 
scalp  one  of  them.” 

After  scalping  the  nine  Indians  we  rode  to  the  train 
and  showed  the  scalps  to  the  women.  One  young  lady 
said  to  me: 

“I  always  took  you  to  be  a gentleman  until  now.” 

I said:  ‘‘Miss,  I claim  to  be  only  a plain  plains  gen- 

tleman, but  that  at  any  and  all  times.” 

She  said:  “I  don’t  think  a gentleman  could  be  so 
barbarous  as  you  are.” 

“My  dear  lady,”  I replied,  “the  taking  of  these  scalps 
may  be  the  means  of  saving  the  train,”  and  then  I ex- 
plained why  we  always  scalped  the  Indians  when  we 
killed  them.  I told  her  that  the  Indians  did  not  fear 
death,  but  hated  the  idea  of  being  scalped. 

About  this  time  Jim  Bridger  came  up  and  gave  a more 
thorough  explanation  cf  the  scalping  business,  and  I did 
not  hear  anything  more  of  it  at  that  time.  But  Jim  often 
teased  the  young  lady  spoken  of,  who  had  a lovely  head 


Barrel  Springs. 


323 


of  hair,  by  remarking  what  a fine  scalp  it  would  make 
for  the  Indians. 

I changed  saddle  horses  and  then  myself  and  two 
assistants  rode  out  north  to  watch  the  movements  of  the 
main  band  of  Indians. 

Before  starting  out  Jim  gave  us  the  password  of  the 
pickets,  which  was  ‘ ‘Buffalo.  ” 

We  rode  until  near  sunset  before  we  got  sight  of  the 
big  band  of  Indians  again,  they  having  gone  into  camp 
about  four  miles  west  of  Barrel  Springs,  where  our  train 
was  camped,  and  only  about  a half  mile  from  the  trail  or 
wagon  road. 

I crawled  up  as  near  their  camp  as  I dared  to  go, 
and  watched  them  until  about  nine  o’clock  that  night,  at 
which  time  a number  of  them  had  turned  in,  apparently 
for  the  night,  and  a number  were  around  their  horses  all 
the  time,  giving  us  no  opportunity  whatever,  to  stam- 
pede them,  which  was  my  intention,  provided  they  gave 
us  the  least  show.  I told  my  assistants  there  would  be 
no  danger  whatever,  until  daybreak  the  next  morning, 
and  we  would  return  to  camp  and  sleep  until  near  day- 
light. 

When  we  got  to  the  train  ]im  had  not  gone  to  bed 
yet.  I told  him  where  we  had  located  the  main  band, 
and  as  near  as  I could  the  number  of  the  Indians — about 
one  hundred  and  fifty — but  that  I did  not  anticipate  any 
trouble  during  the  night. 

Jim  said  he  would  sit  up  until  four  o’clock  the  next 
morning.  ‘‘At  which  time,”  said  he,  “I  will  call  you 
and  you  can  take  as  many  scouts  with  you  as  you  like 
and  watch  every  move  made  by  the  Indians,  and  if  they 


324 


READY  FOR  AN  ATTACK. 


start  this  way  telegraph  me  at  once  and  I will  have  every- 
thing in  readiness  to  receive  them,  and  I think  we  will 
be  able  to  give  them  quite  an  interesting  entertainment.’’ 

What  we  meant  by  the  term  telegraphing  was  send- 
ing a messenger  as  fast  as  he  could  ride,  as  there  were 
no  other  means  of  transmitting  messages  quickly. 

The  next  morning  at  four,  sharp,  Jim  woke  us  up. 
He  had  our  horses  there,  ready  to  saddle. 

I sent  three  scouts  north  of  the  trail,  three  south  and 
took  the  other  two  with  me  to  look  after  the  Indians. 

We  arrived  at  the  place  where  we  had  been  secreted 
the  evening  before,  just  as  the  Indians  were  breaking 
camp.  They  started  toward  the  road,  and  I watched 
them  till  they  struck  the  road  and  headed  toward  the 
train. 

I then  dispatched  one  of  my  assistants  to  the  train, 
which  was  nearly  four  miles  distant,  telling  him.  to  spare 
no  horseflesh,  but  make  the  trip  as  quick  as  his  horse 
was  able  to  carry  him  and  notify  Jim  of  the  Indians* 
movements.  The  other  scout  and  I stayed  to  watch  the 
Indians.  They  traveled  along  the  road  at  their  leisure 
until  they  got  in  sight  of  the  train,  but  Jim  had  all  in 
readiness  for  them.  He  had  raised  the  tongues  of  the 
two  lead  wagons — which  in  forming  a corrall  always  stood 
face  to  face — about  six  feet  high  and  had  the  nine  scalps 
we  had  taken  the  day  before,  strung  on  a line  and  swung 
under  the  wagon  tongues  so  as  to  be  readily  seen  by  the 
Indians.  As  soon  as  the  Indians  came  in  sight  of  the 
train  he  had  all  the  men  form  in  single  line  on  the  out- 
side of  the  corrall,  while  all  the  women  and  children  and 
jII  the  stock  were  on  the  inside. 


SCARED  OFF. 


325 


They  circled  around  the  entire  train,  taking  in  the 
situation  but  keeping  out  of  gunshot,  Seeing  that  the 
emigrants,  much  to  their  surprise,  were  ready  to  receive 
them,  and  seeing  no  chance  to  stampede  their  stock,  they 
rode  off  on  the  hillside  about  half  a mile  away  and  held 
a council  for  about  half  an  hour,  after  which  they  all 
mounted  and  rode  away.  They  were  not  disposed  to 
tackle  a greater  number  than  they  had,  especially  when 
their  antagonists  were  armed  with  guns,  while  they  had 
only  bows,  and  arrows,  and  tomahawks. 

Our  men  were  well  armed  with  such  hand-guns  as 
were  then  in  existence.  Some  had  squirrel  rifles,  others 
yager’s,  shotguns  and  pistols.  In  fact,  about  all  makes 
of  firearms  were  represented  in  that  emigrant  train. 

This  was  the  first  big  band  of  hostile  Indians  that  any 
of  the  people  had  ever  seen,  and  Jim  said  there  was  the 
“wust”  hubbub  inside  that  corrall  he  had  ever  heard,  not- 
withstanding he  had  cautioned  them  to  be  quiet. 

The  most  nervous  of  the  women,  at  sight  of  the  In- 
dians, commenced  crying  and  screaming,  while  those 
more  brave  tried  to  reconcile  those  that  were  half  fren- 
zied from  fright,  and  keep  them  quiet.  Some  were  afraid 
to  have  their  husbands  stand  outside  the  corrall  for  fear 
they  would  be  killed  by  the  redskins;  but  had  it  not  been 
for  that  line  of  men  standing  on  the  outside  of  the 
wagons,  and*  those  scalps  dangling  from  the  wagon 
tongues  all  of  which  led  the  Indians  to  believe  that  the- 
pale-faces  were  anxious  to  entertain  them  for  awhile  at 
least,  they  undoubtedly  would  have  attacked  that  train 
that  morning. 

My  assistants  and  I watched  them  all  that  day,  and 


32^ 


A BUFFALO  HUNT. 


the  train,  after  the  Indians  had  gone,  moved  on.  The  In- 
dians went  backhand  took  the  trail  of  the  nine  scouts  that 
they  had  sent  out  the  morning  before,  tracked  them  to 
where  their  dead  bodies  lay,  and  taking  four  of  the  bodies 
with  them,  moved  on  eastward.  We  selected  a high 
point  and  watched  them  until  they  had  gone  about  ten 
miles,  and  then  we  turned  and  followed  up  the  train, 
which  camped  that  night  at  the  head  of  Rock  Creek. 
When  we  arrived  and  reported  that  the  Indians  had  left 
the  county  they  were  the  happiest  lot  of  people  I ever 
saw.  It  seemed  that  they  thought  this  was  the  only  band 
of  Indians  in  the  country. 

The  next  day  being  Sunday  Jim  proposed  that  we  lay 
over  and  rest,  saying  that  he  was  about  worn  out  him- 
self and  that  he  was  satisfied  that  the  scouts  were  in  the 
same  condition.  This  was  satisfactory  to  all,  so  we  did 
not  move  camp  that  day. 

Up  to  this  time  we  had  not  killed  any  game,  although 
we  had  seen  plenty,  there  being  considerable  buffalo  in 
this  part  of  the  country  yet,  but  it  had  been  contrary  to 
orders  to  shoot  while  traveling,  and  I want  to  say  right 
here  that  the  people  of  this  train  were  always  obedient 
to  our  orders  during  our  travels  with  them. 

I told  them  I would  go  out  and  kill  a buffalo  that  day 
provided  1 could  find  one  not  too  far  from  camp.  A 
number  of  men  in  the  train  wanted  to  go  with  me  for  a 
buffalo  hunt.  '‘The  more  the  merrier,”  I said,  so  we 
saddled  and  started,  six  of  us  together. 

About  two  miles  from  camp  we  saw  a band  of  fifteen 
bmfalo  that  had  not  yet  seen  us.  We  at  once  dropped 
back  over  the  hill,  and  taking  a circuitous  route,  we  rode* 


WE  KILLED  FOUR. 


327 


on  the  opposite  side  of  them  from  camp,  and  cautiously 
to  within  about  a hundred  and  fifty  yards,  when  they 
raised  their  heads,  took  a good  look  at  us  and  started  off 
toward  the  train.  I told  Saunders  as  he  was  on  a fast 
horse  to  take  one  side  and  I would  take  the  other  and 
let  the  other  boys  bring  up  the  rear,  as  by  so  doing  we 
could  drive  them  near  camp  and  save  packing  the  meat 
so  far.  When  we  were  in  the  valley  just  below  camp  I 
told  each  man  to  select  his  buffalo  and  fire,  which  they 
did,  when  within  a quarter  of  a mile  from  camp.  We 
then  all  commenced  yelling  like  Indians,  and  Jim  Bridger 
said  that  he  never  saw  a crowd  of  men  get  to  their  guns 
as  quick  as  the  men  in  the  train  did,  for  they  actually 
thought  we  were  Indians. 

We  succeeded  in  killing  four  buffalo  out  of  the  band, 
the  last  one  being  within  a hundred  yards  of  camp.  We 
dressed  them  and  all  hands  volunteered  to  carry  the  meat 
to  camp  where  it  was  turned  over  to  the  committee  to 
be  distributed  among  the  people  of  the  entire  train, 

This  was  a great  treat  to  them,  for  they  had  been 
living  on  bacon  for  a long  time,  having  no  fresh  meat 
whatever. 

It  was  twenty-five  miles  from  here  to  the  next  place 
where  we  could  find  water  and  a suitable  camping  place 
where  we  would  also  have  a good  chance  to  protect  our- 
selves from  Indians.  So  we  pulled  out  early,  I distribut- 
ing my  scouts  as  usual,  only  that  I went  alone  and  had  a 
hard  ride  for  nothing. 

After  I had  gone  quite  a distance  I saw  what  I sup- 
posed to  be- Indians;  but  they  were  a long  way  off.  The 
thought  struck  me  that  it  was  the  same  band  we  had 


328 


HEAR  OF  MORE  INDIANS. 


seen  before  and  that  they  were  sneaking  around  intend- 
ing to  steal  a march  on  us  and  attack  the  train  while 
traveling  and  stampede  the  stock,  which  was  often  done 
when  no  scouts  were  kept  out  for  their  protection.  I 
started  to  follow  them  up  and  did  not  find  out  my  mis- 
take until  I struck  the  trail  of  my  supposed  band  of  In- 
dians which  to  my  surprise  proved  to  be  a buffalo  trail 
and  instead  of  Indians  I had  been  following  a band  of 
buffalo  all  day. 

That  night  I laid  out  and  the  people  in  camp  were 
very  uneasy  about  me,  thinking  I never  would  return,  as 
they  thought  I must  have  been  killed  by  Indians.  Jim 
told  them  not  to  be  alarmed  as  I would  turn  up  all  right 
the  next  day. 

On  a trip  of  this  kind  I usually  took  a lunch  along 
with  me;  but  not  expecting  to  be  out  long  this  time  I did 
not  take  anything  to  eat,  so  I had  to  starve  it  out  until  I 
got  back  to  the  train,  which  was  the  next  day  at  noon. 

I did  not  see  any  fresh  Indian  sign  on  the  entire  trip; 
neither  did  the  other  scouts  see  any  sign  of  them,  and 
we  concluded  that  if  we  did  not  have  any  trouble  for 
three  days,  we  would  be  out  of  danger  of  the  Sioux,  for 
by  that  time  we  would  be  out  in  the  Bitter  Creek  coun- 
try and  there  was  no  fear  of  Indians  there. 

All  went  along  smoothly  and  we  did  not  see  or  hear 
of  any  more  Indians  until  we  got  to  Fort  Bridger.  Here 
I met  one  of  Gen.  Connors  men  who  told  me  that  the 
Utes  were  very  bad  in  the  vicinity  of  Fort  Douglas  near 
Salt  Lake,  that  being  the  place  where  Gen.  Connor  was 
stationed  at  that  time.  He  said  that  they  had  not  beer 


discover  Indians. 


329 


able  to  get  a fight  out  of  the  Indians  yet,  although  they 
had  followed  them  around  a great  deal. 

We  decided  to  take  Sublet’s  Cutoff,  leaving  Salt  Lake 
City  about  one  hundred  miles  south,  as  Jim  said  he  would 
rather  fight  Indians  than  Mormons. 

Six  days  after  leaving  Fort  Bridger  I met  two  of  Gen. 
Connor’s  scouts  in  Cash  valley,  and  they  told  us  the  Utes 
were  very  bad  farther  West,  and  advised  us  to  take  the 
Goose  Creek  route  to  avoid  the  Indians.  We  took  their 
advice. 

Here  was  a scope  of  country  that  neither  Jim  nor  I 
had  ever  been  over,  it  being  a new  road  just  made  the 
year  previous. 

After  traveling  four  days  on  this  road,  late  in  the 
evening  of  the  fourth,  I discovered  a little  band  of  In- 
dians about  six  or  eight  miles  from  the  road  on  a stream 
it*t  I have  since  heard  called  Raft  river,  which  is  a trib- 
utary of  the  Snake. 

We  watched  the  band  until  dark  and  then  rode  as 
near  as  we  thought  safe.  I then  left  my  horse  with  mv 
two  assistants  and  crawled  up  near  the  Indian  camp  and 
tried  to  get  a count  on  them.  When  I got  near  them  I 
found  that  they  were  Bannocks  and  were  not  warriors, 
but  apparently  a hunting  and  fishing  party,  and  were  ail 
old  men  and  women.  I went  away  without  molesting  or 
even  allowing  them  to  know  that  I had  been  there. 

Four  days’  travel  from  here  brought  us  into  a section 
of  country  where  I had  done  my  first  scouting,  on  the 
waters  of  the  Humboldt.  The  first  day  after  striking  the 
Humboldt,  three  of  my  men  and  I late  in  the  afternoon, 
ran  on  to  a small  band  of  Utes,  eleven  in  number.  I 


330 


KILLED  TWO  INDIANS. 


thought  we  had  discovered  them  and  got  away  without 
being  noticed,  so  I told  the  boys  that  by  making  a circuit 
of  about  one  and  a half  miles  we  would  have  the  advan- 
tage of  the  ground  and  would  be  on  to  them  before  they 
knew  it. 

On  arriving  at  the  place  where  I expected  to  make 
the  charge  I was  disappointed  to  find  that  they  were 
mounted  and  on  the  move,  they  having  no  doubt  gotten 
sight  of  us  when  we  first  saw  them.  We  gave  chase  but 
they  had  too  far  the  start  of  us,  and  after  running  about 
two  miles  we  ended  the  pursuit. 

There  was  no  more  trouble  until  we  got  to  where 
Wadsworth  now  stands.  Here,  one  morning  about  sun- 
rise, as  the  herders  were  bringing  in  the  stock,  five  In- 
dians rushed  in  and  tried  to  stampede  the  animals,  but 
the  herders  happened  to  see  them  in  time  to  give  the 
alarm.  Jim  and  I having  our  horses  tied  near  the  camp, 
were  out  after  them  quicker  than  I can  tell  it.  We  got 
two  of  them,  and  I think  the  other  three  must  have 
thought  themselves  extremely  lucky  that  they  got  away 
with  their  scalps. 

The  only  damage  done  by  them  was  that  they  scared 
the  herders  out  of  a year’s  growth,  and  just  where  those 
Indians  came  from  I never  have  been  able  to  tell,  for  I 
made  it  a rule  to  circle  the  camp  every  evening  and  look 
for  Indians  and  Indian  signs. 

This  was  the  only  time  on  the  trip  that  I had  an  In- 
dian steal  a march  on  me,  and  this  was  the  last  trouble 
we  had  with  Indians  on  this  trip.  Ten  days  travel 
brought  us  to  the  foot  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  Mountains  at 
the  head  of  Eagle  Valley. 


FAREWELL  DANCE. 


331 


Jim  knowing  that  they  wanted  to  lay  over  the  next 
day,  it  being  Sunday,  he  selected  a lovely  camping 
ground  in  a pleasant  pine  grove  and  went  into  camp 
about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon. 

As  soon  as  we  had  got  into  camp,  Jim  and  I went  to 
the  committee  and  told  them  they  did  not  need  our  ser- 
vices any  longer  as  there  would  be  no  danger  whatever 
from  here  on  of  Indians,  they  being  now  out  of  the  hos- 
tile country  entirely. 

When  the  women  folks  learned  that  we  were  going 
to  leave  they  proposed  giving  a farewell  party  that  night. 
Having  musicians  in  the  train,  they  selected  a nice  level 
spot,  and  all  who  desired  to  participate  congregated  there 
and  had  an  enjoyable  time.  I think  they  enjoyed  that 
dance  out  in  that  lovely  forest  as  much  as  though  they 
had  been  dancing  in  the  finest  hall  in  San  Francisco;  and 
I think  even  the  old  people  who  were  religious  were  so 
overjoyed  to  know  that  they  were  once  more  safe  from 
the  much  dreaded  and  barbarous  red  men  of  the  plains, 
that  they  almost  felt  like  dancing  themselves. 

Although  I had  been  with  this  train  just  two  and  one 
half  months  I had  been  in  company  with  the  ladies  but 
very  little,  for  I had  never  been  in  in  daylight  only  just  long 
enough  to  eat  my  meals  and  change  horses,  consequently 
I was  but  slightly  acquainted  with  any  of  them.  This 
was  the  first  dance  on  the  trip,  and  it  was  surprising  to 
me  to  see  how  sociable  the  ladies  were  with  me,  and  had 
it  not  been  that  I was  so  bashful,  I might  have  had  a 
pleasant  time. 

When  the  dance  was  over,  about  ten  o’clock  that 
night,  one  of  the  committee  got  up  and  made  us  quite  a 


332 


WE  SAY  GOOD-BYE. 


speech  in  behalf  of  the  people  in  the  train,  telling  us  how 
much  they  appreciated  the  interest  we  had  taken  in 
guarding  their  train  through  safely,  and  after  he  was 
through  talking  he  gave  each  of  us  a letter  of  recommen- 
dation, which  had  been  drawn  up  that  evening  while  the 
dance  was  going  on.  I think  those  letters  were  signed 
by  every  man  in  the  train,  and  a great  many  of  the  ladies 
had  signed  them  too.  The  speaker  concluded  his  re- 
marks by  asking  us  to  remain  with  the  train  as  long  as 
we  desired,  and  our  provisions  should  not  cost  us  a cent, 
nor  for  having  our  horses  herded  with  theirs.  It  being 
too  late  in  the  fall  to  return  to  Fort  Kearney,  we  ac- 
cepted their  kind  and  liberal  offer  and  concluded  to  travel 
with  them  a few  days. 

We  remained  with  them  until  near  Sacramento,  and 
here  I met  my  old  friend  Johnnie  West.  He  was  begin- 
ning to  look  very  old,  considering  his  age.  He  told  me 
he  had  quit  drinking  and  was  going  to  lead  a different 
life  from  this  on;  that  he  had  taken  up  a ranch  five  mile? 
from  Sacramento  on  the  river  and  invited  us  home  with 
him. 

We  accepted  the  invitation,  and  bidding  the  people 
that  had  been  traveling  with  nearly  three  months, 
good-bye,  we  left  them  and  went  with  Johnnie  to  his 
ranch. 

When  we  were  ready  to  leave,  I think  every  per- 
son in  the  train  shook  hands  with  us. 


Johnnie  West’s  ranch. 


333 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


Bridger  and  West  give  Christmas  a high  old  wel- 
come in  Sacramento.  — California  Gulch.  — 
Meeting  with  Buffalo  Bill. — Thirty-three 

SCALPS  WITH  ONE  KNIFE. 

On  our  arrival  at  Johnnie  West’s  ranch  we  found  that 
he  had  quite  a comfortable  house,  considering  that  it  had 
been  built  by  an  old  trapper.  He  had  five  acres  under 
cultivation,  and  had  raised  a promiscuous  lot  of  very  de- 
sirable produce,  especially  in  the  way  of  vegetable  truck. 

We  remained  with  West  two  months,  putting  in  our 
time  hunting,  fishing  and  loafing.  It  being  near  Christ- 
mas now,  the  question  arose  as  to  what  we  would  do  to 
celebrate  that  festive  season.  Jim  was  for  going  to  San 
Francisco  and  Johnnie  wanted  to  go  to  Sacramento.  I 
told  them  it  was  immaterial  to  me  where  I went.  But 
all  this  time  I was  afraid  that  if  John  West  got  to  town 
in  company  with  Jim  Bridger  that  West  would  break  his 
oft-repeated  resolutions  and  there  would  be  a big  run  on 
the  reddest  kind  of  paint.  I told  Jim  my  fears  and  pro- 
posed that  we  remain  at  home  and  take  our  Christmas 
there.  But  Jim  couldn’t  see  it  in  that  light,  and  said 
one  little  spree  wouldn’t  hurt  Johnnie,  so  the  day  before 
Christmas  we  pulled  out  for  Sacramento.  That  same 


334 


Chirstmas  at  Sacramento. 


evening  Jim  and  Johnnie  both  got  loads  that  they  ought 
to  have  gone  after  about  nine  times,  if  they  just  had  to 
pack  them,  and  the  result  was  that  it  was  my  busy  day 
keeping  them  out  of  the  calaboose.  I promised  the 
police  I would  put  them  to  bed  and  make  them  stay 
there  until  morning. 

Next  morning,  the  first  thing  after  we  had  dressed, 
Jim  said:  “Well  boys,  let’s  go  and  have  a Christmas 

drink.”  I said:  “Boys,  I will  take  one  drink  with  you 
and  then  quit.  Now  if  you  fellows  want  to  make  brutes 
of  yourselves  and  get  into  the  lock-up,  just  go  ahead,  but 
I am  going  to  go  home  as  soon  as  I get  my  breakfast.” 
So  we  went  down  the  street  and  into  the  first  saloon  we 
came  to  and  called  for  egg-nogg.  I remained  with  them 
until  they  were  drinking  their  fifth  drink.  I could  not 
do  anything  with  them,  so  I told  them  I was  going  to 
breakfast,  and  they  could  do  as  they  pleased.  This  was 
the  first  time  in  my  life  that  I had  ever  been  placed  in  a 
position  where  I was  actually  ashamed  of  my  associates. 
I was  so  disgusted  when  I left  them  that  morning  to  go 
to  my  breakfast  that  I thought  I would  go  home  and 
leave  them  But  after  eating  my  breakfast,  being,  per- 
haps, in  a better  humor,  I started  out  to  hunt  for  them. 
I do  not  wish  to  try  for  a moment  to  lead  the  reader  to 
belive  that  I do  not  like  the  taste  of  liquor,  for  I am  con- 
fident at  that  time  I really  liked  it  better  than  either  of 
my  associates,  but  I always  dispise  the  effect,  and  that 
seemed  to  be  what  they,  like  thousands  of  other,  drink 
it  for.  It  always  seemed  to  me  that  when  a man  is 
druuk  he  is  more  disposed  to  show  the  brute  that  is  in 
him  than  to  act  a gentleman. 


Johnnie  locked  up. 


335 


After  looking  around  some  little  time  I found  Jim 
Bridger  in  a saloon  so  drunk  that  he  could  scarcely  walk. 


The  police  had  taken  him  to  the  station-house. 


I asked  him  where  Johnny  West  was,  and  the  bar-keeper 
told  me  that  the  police  had  taken  him  to  the  station-house. 
I asked  what  for,  and  he  said  for  trying  to  shoot  some 
one. 

I watched  for  an  opportunity  and  took  both  of  Jim’s 
pistols  and  knife  away  from  him  and  gave  them  to  the 
clerk  at  the  hotel.  Afterwards  I walked  to  the  station- 
house  to  see  what  the  charge  was  against  Johnny  West. 


336 


Los  Angeles. 


The  man  told  me  the  charge  was  drunk  and  disorderly 
and  shooting  a pistol  inside  of  a house.  I asked  him  if 
he  would  let  Johnny  out  if  I would  pay  the  fine.  He 
said:  “Yes.  As  soon  as  he  is  sober  to-morrow  morn- 

ing, you  can  come  around.  The  charges  will  be  twenty 
dollars.” 

If  the  reader  ever  had  any  experiece  with  a drunken 
man,  which  to  me  is  the  most  disgusting  thing  on  earth, 
he  can  realize  something  of  the  time  I had  with  those 
two  men,  for  it  took  me  all  the  next  day  to  get  Johnny 
West  home  and  get  him  reconciled. 

He  was  determined  to  return  to  Sacramento,  and  it 
took  me  two  more  days  hard  work  and  coaxing  to  get 
Jim  Bridger  home.  I have  it  by  good  authority  that  this 
was  the  last  drunken  spree  that  Johnnie  West  ever  took. 
He  remained  on  his  ranch  some  six  years  longer  and  hav- 
ing accumulated  considerable  wealth,  sold  out  for  a good 
price  and  returned  home  to  his  relations  in  Texas,  and 
there  died  a short  time  afterwards; 

Jim  Bridger  and  myself  stayed  at  Johnny’s  until  about 
the  middle  of  January.  This  now  being  1 86 1 , we  started 
for  New  Mexico,  via  Los  Angeles,  with  the  intention  of 
laying  over  in  Los  Angeles  until  we  could  cross  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  There  was  a good  wagon  road  from 
Sacramento  to  San  Jose,  and  from  San  Jose  to  Los  An- 
geles. 

At  this  time  the  Indians  were  all  peaceable  through 
California,  the  only  trouble  with  them  was  their  begging. 
At  that  I think,  beyond  any  doubt,  that  they  could  beat 
any  class  of  people  it  has  ever  been  my  misfortune  to 
meet. 


START  FOR  NEW  MEXICO. 


337 


We  arrived  at  Los  Angeles  on  the  fifth  of  February. 
It  being  one  of  the  Spanish  feast  days,  they  were  having 
a great  time.  The  Spanish  population  of  this  place  hav- 
ing now  become  reconciled,  we  were  treated  with  due 
respect  while  we  remained  here,  being  about  one  week, 
during  which  time  we  lived  on  fruit.  For  here  were 
fruits  and  flowers,  world  without  end.  Beyond  any  doubt, 
this  is  the  greatest  place  for  flowers  that  I have  ever 
seen. 

Soon  we  pulled  out  for  New  Mexico,  keeping  on  the 
north  side  oi  the  Colorado  river  until  abo  ve  the  head  of 
the  Grand  Canyon,  this  being  pretty  ^vell  up  in  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  and  here  near  the  head  of  the  Grand 
Canyon  we  began  to  see  more  or  less  Indian  sign,  but  we 
were  undecided  as  to  what  trib^  of  Indians  they  be- 
longed. 

The  second  day  after  crossing  the  Colorado  river  we 
*an  on  to  a band  of  Indians,  bot  to  our  satisfaction  they 
were  of  the  Pima  tribe,  and  the  same  young  Indian  whose 
sister  had  assisted  me  ir  rescuing  the  white  girl  Olive 
Oatman,  was  with  them. 

As  soon  as  he  saw  me  he  ran  to  meet  me  and  shouted 
“Kain,  igo,” — meaning  “Hello,  friend/’ — and  shook 
hands  with  me. 

The  Pimas  were  out  on  their  annual  hunt  tor  that 
season,  and  we  had  to  remain  with  them  two  days.  Be- 
ing acquainted,  with  them  all,  and  as  I have  said  before, 
when  one  is  out  in  a hostile  Indian  country,  sometimes 
the  company  of  friendly  Indians  is  quite  acceptable. 

After  leaving  here  we  would  be  compelled  to  pass 
over  a small  portion  of  the  Ute  country,  and  game  being 


338 


FRIENDLY  INDIANS 


plentiful  at  this  time,  we  feared  they  might  be  out  on  a 
hunt,  and  just  at  present  we  were  not  hankering  after 
sport  of  the  Indian  fighting  kind.  So  I preposed  to  Jim 
Bridger  that  we  hire  four  of  these  young  Pimas  to  ac- 
company us  through  the  Ute  country,  knowing  that  the 
Pimas  were  on  good  terms  with  all  their  neighboring 
tribes.  Jim  said  that  we  had  nothing  to  give  them,  hav- 
ing neither  jewelry  or  beads  with  us. 

I told  him  that  I would  spare  them  a horse  if  we  could 
get  them  to  go,  I had  four  horses  with  me,  while  Jim 


Sitting  around  the  camp  fire,  smoking  and  cracking  jokes. 


only  had  three.  He  told  me  to  go  ahead  and  make  any 
kind  of  a bargain  with  them  I liked  and  he  would  stand 
his  portion. 


WE  HIRE  ESCORTS. 


339 


That  night  after  supper  while  we  were  sitting  around 
the  camp  fire,  smoking  and  cracking  jokes — for  an  In- 
dian enjoys  a joke  as  well  as  any  one — I got  up  and  told 
them  that  we  would,  after  leaving  their  country,  have  to 
travel  over  a small  portion  of  the  Ute  conntry,  and  they 
being  hostile  towards  the  white  people,  we  did  not  feel 
safe  to  try  to  cross  their  country  alone,  I told  them  we 
were  very  poor,  having  no  beads  nor  blankets  to  spare, 
but  if  four  of  their  men  would  accompany  us  for  three 
days,  I would  give  them  a good  horse. 

The  young  Indian  said:  ‘‘You  have  been  a good 

friend  to  me,  and  me  and  my  friend  will  go  with  you 
across  the  Ute  country.  We  don’t  want  your  horse,  but 
when  you  come  back  you  can  bring  us  some  beads.” 

This  we  agreed  to  do,  and  the  next  morning  we 
started  early,  accompanied  by  four  young  Pima  Indians. 

During  the  first  two  days’  travel  from  the  Pima  camp 
we  saw  not  less  than  two  hundred  Indians  of  the  Ute 
tribe,  camping  the  second  night  within  a quarter  of  a 
mile  of  a large  village  of  them,  but  having  those  Pimas 
with  us  they  did  not  offer  to  molest  us. 

When  we  were  approaching  a village  two  of  the  Pimas 
would  ride  ahead  and  tell  the  Utes  that  we  were  their 
friends.  They  traveled  with  us  four  days,  when  we  con- 
cluded we  were  safe  and  they  returned  to  their  crowd  of 
hunters,  and  we  proceeded  on  our  journey,  crossing  the 
main  divide  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  at  the  head  of  the 
Blue  river,  striking  the  head  of  the  Arkansas  river  as  soon 
as  we  were  across  the  main  divide. 

The  day  we  crossed  the  divide  we  went  into  camp  as 
soon  as  we  were  out  of  the  snow  on  the  east  side.  That 


340 


California  Gulch. 


night  when  it  was  dark  we  could  see  down  the  Arkansas 
river  a great  number  of  camp  fires,  and  what  this  all 
meant  was  a mystery  to  us.  We  knew  that  we  were 
then  in  the  Comanche  country,  but  we  could  not  think 
that  they  were  up  in  that  region  so  early  in  the  season. 
We  were  both  somewhat  restless  that  night,  sleeping  but 
very  little,  fearing  that  these  were  camp-fires  of  the  Utes, 
and  if  so  we  were  sure  to  have  trouble  with  them  before 
we  could  get  out  of  this  part  of  the  country. 

We  were  not  in  much  of  a hurry  to  start  next  morn- 
ing, but  I took  my  glasses  and  selecting  a high  point  for 
a general  look,  was  agreeably  surprised  to  see  that  the 
camp  was  one  of  wagons  and  tents.  That  made  us  feel 
considerably  better.  We  packed  up  at  once  and  went 
down  to  see  what  it  all  meant. 

On  arriving  we  found  a company  of  miners.  The 
gold  in  California  Gulch  had  just  recently  been  discov- 
ered, and  that  was  attracting  them.  As  soon  as  we 
learned  the  cause  of  the  excitement,  we  struck  camp  and 
walked  up  the  canyon  to  where  they  were  at  work.  They 
were  taking  out  gold  in  great  quantities,  but  we  only  re- 
mained until  next  morning,  when  we  packed  up  and 
started  for  Taos,  going  via  the  the  place  where  Colorado 
City  now  stands- — a deserted  village  near  the  present  city 
of  Colorado  Springs.  We  were  now  in  a country  where 
we  were  perfectly  safe,  so  far  as  Indians  were  concerned, 
and  we  could  travel  at  our  ease. 

On  our  first  day’s  travel,  after  leaving  the  mining 
we  passed  through  the  country  where  I did  my  first  trap- 
ping in  company  with  Unde  Kit  Carson  and  Mr.  Hughes, 
and  as  we  were  riding  along  I pointed  out  to  Jim  the 


WORKING  FOR  UNCLE  KlT. 


341 


place  where  I took  my  first  Indian  scalp.  This  was  the 
first  time  I had  ever  mentioned  it  to  him  and  he  said 
that  Uncle  Kit  had  told  him  all  about  it  a long  time  ago. 

On  our  arrival  at  Taos  we  found  Uncle  Kit  suffering 
severely  from  the  effects  of  the  arrow  wound  that  has 
twice  before  been  mentioned  in  this  history.  He  and 
his  wife  were  glad  to  see  us,  and  Uncle.  Kit  insisted  on 
my  remaining  with  him  and  taking  charge  of  his  stock. 
He  now  had  several  bands  of  sheep  and  some  four  hun- 
dred head  of  cattle,  and  not  being  able  to  ride  and  look 
after  the  camps,  he  wanted  me  to  ride  from  one  camp  to 
to  the  other  and  look  after  the  business  in  general,  for 
whieh  he  offered  to  pay  me  well.  I agreed  to  work  for 
him  at  least  two  or  three  months  and  perhaps  longer, 
provided  I liked  the  business. 

After  I had  been  one  month  at  work  a wholesale 
butcher  came  over  from  Denver  to  buy  cattle  and  sheep. 
I went  out  and  showed  him  Uncle  Kit’s,  after  which  we 
returned  to  Taos  and  he  closed  a trade  with  Uncle  Kit, 
agreeing  to  take  one  hundred  head  of  cattle  and  one 
thousand  head  of  sheep.  The  price  to  be  paid  for  them 
I never  knew,  but  he  paid  a certain  portion  down  and 
the  balance  was  to  be  paid  the  coming  October,  in  Den- 
ver City. 

I remained  with  Uncle  Kit  until  the  first  of  October, 
looking  after  things  in  general,  when  he  asked  me  to  ac- 
company him  to  Denver  City,  which  was  one  hundred 
and  eighty  miles  from  Taos. 

About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  of  the  sixth  day 
we  roo-!  into  Denver,  from  the  southwest.  When  neat 
where  Cherry  creek  runs  through  the  city  we  saw  an  bca- 


34* 


Denver  City. 


mense  crowd  of  people  in  the  streets,  so  we  pushed  on 
te  see  what  the  excitement  was. 

When  near  the  crowd  we  met  three  or  four  men 
on  horseback  riding  up  the  street.  We  asked  what  was 
causing  the  excitement.  One  of  them  replied:  “Oh. 

nothing,  only  they  are  going  to  hang  a man  down  there 
in  a few  minutes.  ” 

This  being  the  first  opportunity  I had  ever  had  to  see 
a man  hung,  we  stayed  and  saw  it  through.  We  rode 
up  to  the  edge  of  the  crowd,  which  was  about  forty  yards 
from  the  scaffold  where  the  hanging  was  to  take  place, 
and  had  been  there  but  a few  moments  when  we  saw  the 
sheriff  coming  with  the  prisoner,  having  a very  strong 
guard  of  some  two  hundred  men  all  well  armed.  As  soon 
as  the  prisoner  stepped  on  to  the  platform  some  one 
handed  him  a chair  to  sit  down  in. 

The  sheriff  turned  to  the  prisoner  and  said:  “Mr. 

Gordon  if  you  have  anything  to  say,  now  you  have  the 
opportunity.  I will  give  you  all  the  time  necessary  tc 
say  what  you  wish.” 

The  prisoner  rose  to  his  feet  and  brushed  his  hair 
back,  apparently  cool,  but  the  moment  he  commenced 
to  talk  I could  see  the  tears  begin  to  trickle  down  his 
cheeks. 

I thought  it  a most  pitful  sight.  He  did  not.  talk 
long,  but  briefly  thanked  his  friends  for  their  kindness  to- 
wards him  during  his  confinement,  and  said:  “Gentle- 

men, I think  you  did  very  wrong  in  holding  out  the  idea 
to  me  that  I would  come  clear,  when  you  knew  very  wed 
that  there  was  no  show  whatever  for  me,”  and  took  his 
•eat. 


WITNESS  A HANGING. 


343 


A gospel  minister  then  stepped  upon  the  platform  and 
engaged  in  prayer.  When  he  rose  from  praying  the 
prisoner  was  weeping  bitterly.  The  sheriff  then  stepped 
up  to  him  and  said:  “Come,  Mr.  Gordon,  your  time  is 

up,”  and  he  took  him  by  one  arm  and  another  man  by 
the  other,  and  when  he  raised  to  his  feet  they  tied  his 
hands  behind  him,  tied  a cloth  over  his  face,  led  him  on 
to  the  trap  and  the  sheriff  placed  the  rope  around  his 
neck  and  started  down  the  steps  to  spring  the  trap,  when 
the  prisoner  sang  out:  '“Come  back,  Meadows,  come 

back! ” 

The  sheriff  turned  and  walked  up  to  where  the  pris- 
oner was,  and  he  said: 

4 ‘Meadows,  fix  the  rope  good  so  it  will  break  my  neck, 
for  I want  to  die  quick.” 

After  the  sheriff  had  fixed  the  rope  he  stepped  down 
and  sprung  the  trap,  and  from  where  I was  I could  not 
see  that  Gordon  made  the  least  struggle  after  he  dropped. 

Just  as  we  were  ready  to  leave  here  who  should  step 
up  but  our  old  friend  Mr.  Joe  Favor,  whom  we  had  not 
seen  for  a long  time.  He  insisted  on  us  going  to  his 
store,  telling  us  where  to  put  our  horses.  So,  after  put- 
ting our  horses  up,  we  went  around  with  him. 

On  arriving  at  Favor’s  place  we  found  that  he  had  a 
number  of  his  St.  Louis  friends  with  him,  who  had  only 
arrived  a few  days  previous  to  this.  After  introducing 
us  all  around,  he  said:  “I  want  you  two  men  to  come 

over  and  take  supper  with  me.  I have  just  ordered  sup- 
per at  the  Jefferson  House.” 

Uncle  Kit  tried  to  excuse  himself  on  the  grounds  that 


344 


THIRTY-THREE  SCALPS. 


we  were  not  dressed  well  enough  to  go  into  company,  we 
having  on  our  buckskin  suits.  But  his  answer  was: 

‘‘I  would  not  have  you  dressed  otherwise  if  I could, 
so  be  sure  and  come  with  your  side  arms  on,”  having 
reference  to  our  revolvers  and  knives.  He  then  addressed 
his  conversation  to  me  for  a few  moments  by  asking  what 
I would  take  to  tell  him  the  honest  truth  as  to  how  many 
Indians  I had  scalped  with  the  knife  that  he  gave  me, 
seeing  that  I still  carried  it. 

I said:  “Mr.  Favor,  I could  tell  you  just  the  num- 

ber, but  it  would  be  out  of  place  for  me  to  do  so.”  He 
asked  why,  and  I said:  “Mr.  Favor,  up  to  this  time  I 

don’t  think  I have  ever  given  you  any  reason  to  doubt 
my  word,  but  if  I should  tell  you  the  honest  truth  as  to 
the  number  of  Indians  I have  scalped  with  that  knife  I 
fear  you  would  doubt  me.” 

By  this  time  a number  of  his  St.  Louis  friends  had 
flocked  around  me,  and  it  seemed  as  if  they  would  look 
through  me.  Mr.  Favor  assured  me  that  he  would  not 
doubt  my  word  for  a moment,  but  I told  him  his  friends 
would.  They  assured  me  that  they  would  not,  saying 
from  what  they  had  heard  of  me  from  Mr.  Favor  before 
seeing  me,  they  felt  satisfied  that  I would  tell  them  the 
truth. 

I said:  “Gentlemen,  if  I had  gotten  one  more  scalp 

I would  just  have  even  thirty-four,  but  as  it  is  I have 
just  taken  thirty-three  scalps  with  this  knife.  I mean 
from  Indians  that  I killed  myself.  I have  taken  a num- 
ber that  were  killed  by  others,  but  I did  not  count  them.” 
The  crowd  then  turned  their  attention  to  Uncle  Kit 
Carson,  and  while  at  the  supper  table  those  St.  Louis 


Kit  Carson’s  life. 


345 


parties  asked  him  what  he  would  take  to  sit  down  and  give 
them  a true  history  of  his  life  and  let  them  write  it  up 
and  have  it  published.  To  this  he  would  not  hear.  They 
then  came  at  him  in  a different  manner  by  asking  what 
per  cent,  of  the  net  proceeds  he  would  take.  To  this  he 
said:  ‘ ‘Gentlemen,  if  there  is  anything  on  earth  that  J 

do  dislike  it  surely  is  this  thing  called  notoriety,  ” and  he 
continued  by  _aying,  ‘ ‘There  is  a part  of  my  life  that  I 
hate  to  think  of  myself,  and  a book  written  without  the 
whole  of  my  life  would  not  amount  to  anything.  ” 

After  supper  we  returned  to  the  store  and  those  men 
talked  with  Uncle  Kit  until  near  midnight  about  this  mat- 
ter. By  this  time  he  had  become  impatient  and  said: 
“Gentlemen,  there  is  no  use  talking,  for  I will  not  sub- 
mit to  a thing  of  this  kind,  and  you  will  oblige  me  very 
much  by  not  mentioning  it  any  more.  ” So  that  ended 
the  conversation  concerning  the  matter,  for  the  time  be- 
ing, and  Uncle  Kit  and  I retired  for  the  night. 

The  morning  following  I walked  down  to  the  store 
and  Mr.  Favor  told  me  there  had  been  some  parties  look- 
ing for  me,  and  left  word  for  me  to  meet  them  at  the 
store  at  ten  o’clock. 

I sat  down  and  waited  until  they  came  at  the  hour 
appointed.  A gentleman  in  the  crowd  named  Green 
Campbell  seemed  to  be  their  spokesman.  And,  by  the 
way,  this  same  Mr.  Campbell  has  since  grown  to  be  very 
wealthy  and  now  resides  in  Salt  Lake  City,  and  a few 
years  ago  was  nominated  on  the  Gentile  ticket  for  Gov- 
ernor, but  was  defeated. 

Mr.  Campbell  said  to  me:  “There  are  five  of  us  that 
have  been  mining  here  this  summer  and  have  done  very 


346 


to  go  to  Gila  River. 


well,  but  we  are  not  satisfied.  We  want  to  go  on  to  the 
waters  of  the  Gila  river  and  prospect  this  winter,  and 
have  been  trying  for  several  days  to  find  some  one  that 
could  guide  us  to  that  country,  and  Mr.  Favor  having 
recommended  you  to  us  very  highly,  we  wish  to  make 
some  kind  of  a bargain  with  you  if  we  can,  to  guide  us  to 
that  part  of  the  country.  Is  it  safe  for  a small  party 
to  go  in  there?” 

I said:  “Mr.  Campbell,  it  depends  altogether  in 

what  part  of  the  country  you  want  to  go.  I could  take 
you  on  the  waters  of  the  Gila  river  where  you  would  be 
perfectly  safe,  but  whether  it  would  be  where  you  want 
to  go  or  not  is  the  question.”  I drew  a diagram  of  that 
part  of  the  country  as  best  I could,  showing  the  different 
tributaries  to  the  river,  pointing  out  the  region  where 
they  would  be  safe  and  also  that  which  they  would  not 
dare  enter  on  account  of  the  hostile  Apache  Indians. 

Mr.  Campbell  asked  me  if  I would  remain  with  them 
until  spring.  I told  him  I would,  and  they  made  me  a 
proposition,  which  I accepted.  They  were  to  furnish  all 
the  pack  animals  necessary  for  the  outfit  and  to  board 
me,  I to  furnish  my  own  saddle-horses.  I advised  them 
to  go  to  Taos  with  a wagon  and  team,  and  buy  their  pack 
animals  there  as  they  would  be  able  to  get  them  much 
cheaper  than  in  Denver.  They  proposed  that  I go  to 
Taos  and  buy  the  pack  animals  and  have  everything 
ready  by  the  time  they  would  arrive,  as  they  had  busi- 
ness which  would  necessarily  detain  them  for  at  least 
two  weeks.  This  I agreed  to  do. 

That  afternoon  I was  walking  down  the  street  near 
the  Planters  House  when  I met  a policeman  in  great 


A LIVELY  ROW. 


347 


haste,  making  his  way  for  the  hotel  mentioned.  As  he 
approached  me  he  said:  “I  deputize  you  to  assist  me 

in  making  the  ar- 
rest of  those  stage 
drivers  in  the 
Planters’  House.” 

This  was  a crowd 
of  men  who  were 
driving  stage  at 
that  time  for  the 
notorious  Slade, 
of  whom  more  will 
be  said  later  on. 

I had  left  my 

side  arms  at  Mr.  Favor’s  store, 
not  thinking  I would  have  any 
occasion  to  use  them,  but  at  the  re- 
quest of  the  policeman,  I entered  the 
hotel  and  found  a general  row  pro-  “I  deputise  you  to 
ceeding.  As  soon  as  we  entered  the  assist  me.’ 
door  two  or  three  of  the  crowd  made 
for  me,  I backed  off  and  defended  myself  the  best  that 
I could,  until  I had  backed  to  the  end  of  the  hall.  The 
door  at  the  end  of  the  hall  being  shut,  I could  back  no 
farther.  Here  I sparred  with  them  for  some  time,  when 
one  of  them  struck  at  me  with  all  vengeance  and  just 
grazed  the  side  of  my  face.  As  I threw  my  head  and 
shoulders  back  to  dodge  the  blow  I knocked  the  whole 
upper  portion  of  the  glass  door  out.  Just  at  that  instant 
Wm.  F.  Cody,  better  known  as  Buffalo  Bill,  seeing  the 
predicament  I was  in,  and  seeing  that  I was  unarmed, 


348 


WE  ARRESTED  SIX. 


caught  me  by  the  shoulders  and  jerked  me  through  that 
window  much  quicker  than  I could  tell  it.  He  handed 
me  one  of  his  pistols  and  said:  4 ‘Come  on  pard,  and  we 
will  take  them  fellows  or  know  the  reason  why.  ” 

When  we  entered  the  door  they  had  the  policeman 
and  bar-keeper  both  cornered  behind  the  bar,  but  seeing 
that  we  were  prepared  for  them,  strange  to  say,  not  one 
of  them  drew  his  pistol,  but  all  surrendered  at  once,  and 
the  entire  crowd,  six  in  number,  were  escorted  to  the 
cooler. 

The  name  of  this  policeman  was  William  Deecy,  and 
he  is  now  living  in  Boulder,  Montana.  I saw  him  less 
than  one  year  ago,  and  we  enjoyed  a good  laugh  as  we 
rehearsed  the  affair  of  the  Planters’  House. 

That  afternoon  after  having  his  business  attended  to, 
Uncle  Kit  went  to  Mr.  Favor  and  said:  '‘Joe,  I want 

you  and  your  friends  from  St.  Louis  to  come  and  take 
supper  with  me  this  evening  at  the  same  hotel  where  we 
had  supper  last  evening.” 

When  Uncle  Kit  spoke  in  this  manner  Mr.  Favor  felt 
sure  that  he  had  changed  his  mind  in  regard  to  having 
his  life  written  up,  and  before  going  to  supper,  in  the 
absence  of  Uncle  Kit,  Mr.  Favor  asked  me  about  it.  I told 
him  he  had  not.  Whereupon  he  proposed  betting  me  a 
new  hat  that  those  parties  would  write  up  his,  Kit  Car- 
son’s, life.  I said;  “Not  by  his  consent.”  “Yes,”  said 
he,  “by  his  own  consent.” 

This  bet  I accepted,  and  that  night  Mr.  Favor  and 
all  of  his  St.  Louis  friends  accompanied  us  from  the  store 
down  to  the  hotel  for  supper.  There  was  one  gentleman 
in  the  crowd  who  was  a splendid  talker,  and  apparently 


Buffalo  Bill. 


349 

an  intelligent  man,  and  when  at  the  supper  table  In  at 
night,  he  mentioned  the  matter  to  Uncle  Kit  again  of 
having  his  life  published.  On  turning  his  eyes  to  the  re- 
fined gentleman,  he  said:  '‘I  would  have  you  under- 

stand that  when  I say  anything  I mean  it.  I told  you 
in  plain  English  last  evening  that  I would  not  submit  to 
anything  of  that  kind,  and  now  don’t  compel  me  to  talK 
too  harsh,  but  please  drop  the  subject  at  once.” 

Mr.  Favor,  who  had  been  watching  very  close  all  this 
time,  could  see  at  once  there  was  no  use  in  talking  any 
more  about  the  subject  and  turned  the  conversation  as 
quickly  as  possible  and  there  was  no  more  said  about  it. 
That  night  while 
i ,n  a conversation 
with  Buffalo  Bill  he 
told  Uncle  Kit  and 
I that  he  would  be 
going  out  to  Bent’s 
Fort  in  a few  days 
and  proposed  that 
we  join  him  there 
and  have  a buffalo 
hunt  before  I went 
away.  We  prom- 
ised that  we  would 
meet  him. 

The  next  morn- 
ing Uncle  Kit  and  I Col.  W.  F.  Cody.— “Buffalo  Bill.” 
mounted  our  horses 

to  start  on  our  return  trip  to  Taos,  and  when  we  rode  up 
in  front  of  the  store.  Mr.  Favor  told  me  to  come  in  and 


350 


A BUFFALO  HUNT. 


get  my  hat.  I told  him  no,  that  I would  not  take  h 
now,  but  let  it  go  until  next  spring  when  I returned.  He 
said  to  call  and  get  it  any  time,  saying:  “You  won  it 
fair.” 

After  we  had  ridden  but  a short  distance  I told  Uncle 
Kit  how  I came  to  win  the  hat,  and  he  said:  “I  think 

them  St.  Louis  men  are  gentlemen,  but  I don’t  propose 
to  have  any  one  write  up  my  life.  I have  got  plenty  to 
keep  me  as  long  as  I live  and  I do  not  like  notoriety.” 
And  just  here  I would  say,  that  to  a man  that  roughed 
it  out  on  the  plains  in  those  days  as  we  old  frontiersmen 
had  to  do,  they  did  not  feel  that  a history  of  their  lives 
would  be  fit  to  go  before  the  public,  for  as  Uncle  Kit 
said:  “A  man  on  the  frontier  had  to  undergo  many 

hardships,  that  if  written  up  true,  just  as  they  occurred, 
people  in  the  civilized  countries  would  not  believe  them 
when  they  read  it.” 

On  my  arrival  at  Taos  I bought  ten  Mexican  jacks  or 
burros  to  use  for  pack  animals  on  the  trip  that  we  were 
about  to  start  upon.  After  that  we  started  for  Bent’s 
Fort  where  we  joined  Buffalo  Bill  and  Col.  Bent  and 
struck  out  for  the  “Picket  Wire” — Purgatoire — on  a buf- 
falo hunt. 

Here  we  found  buffalo  plenty  and  enjoyed  two  days 
successful  hunting,  and  I must  say  that  a more  jolly 
crowd  I was  never  out  with  than  those  three  men  were 
on  a trip  of  this  kind.  Buffalo  Bill,  who  was  as  good- 
natured  a man  as  a person  would  wish  to  meet,  was  able 
to  furnish  amusement  for  the  entire  crowd.  Col.  Ben? 
himself  was  no  mean  Nimrod,  and  Uncle  Kit  did  nottaKe 
a back  seat  on  such  occasions. 


i 


/ 


RETURN  TO  TAOS. 


351 


This  was  the  last  hunting  expedition  that  it  was  ever 
my  pleasure  to  go  upon  in  company  with  Mr.  Cody,  and 
it  was  not  my  pleasure  to  meet  him  again  for  a number 
of  years  afterwards. 

From  here  Uncle  Kit  and  I returned  to  Taos,  and  I 
commenced  making  preparations  for  the  trip  to  the 
waters  of  the  Gila. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


Face  to  face  with  a band  of  Apaches. — The  death 
of  Pinto. — The  closest  call  I ever  had. — A 

NIGHT  ESCAPE. BACK  AT  FORT  DOUGLAS. 


On  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Campbell  and  party  we  packed 
up  and  were  off  to  the  waters  of  the  Gila.  Our  crowd 
consisted  of  Green  Campbell,  of  Missouri;  Thomas  Free- 
man and  David  Roberts,  of  Illinois,  and  Marlow  Pease, 
of  Massachusetts. 

I took  three  saddle  horses  with  me  and  they  each  took 
A saddle  horse  and  three  extra  horses  belonging  to  the 
company.  We  did  not  lose  any  time  getting  across  the 
main  divide.  Being  late  in  the  fall  we  had  great  fear  of 
becoming  snow-bound  on  the  trip.  We  left  the  head  of 


35* 


PROSPECTING. 


the  Arkansas  river  some  fifty  miles  to  the  north  so  as  to 
be  able  to  cross  the  riverwithout  having  the  snow  to  en- 
counter. After  we  were  across  the  main  divide  I told 
them  there  would  be  no  danger  of  being  snowed  in  now, 
so  they  would  stop  occasionally  from  half  a day  to  three 
days  in  a place  to  prospect  what  they  called  the  most 
favorable  looking  places  for  the  yellow  metal  and  most 
generally  finding  a little  gold,  but  not  as  they  considered 
in  paying  quantities,  and  while  they  were  prospecting  it 
was  my  business  to  scout  all  around  the  camp  to  prevent 
a surprise  party  by  the  reds  and  to  kill  game  to  live  on. 

We  arrived  at  the  Gila,  striking  the  middle  fork  a 
little  more  southwest  than  I had  ever  been  before.  I told 
them  we  were  now  in  the  Apache  country  and  that  those 
were  the  worst  Indians  we  had  to  contend  with.  We 
found  a nice  place  for  a camp  and  Mr.  Campbell  pro- 
posed to  build  a log  cabin  in  order  to  protect  ourselves 
against  the  Indians,  but  I told  them  I thought  they  had 
better  prospect  a week  or  ten  days  first,  and  if  they 
found  it  co  pay  them  we  could  build  a cabin,  and  in  the 
mean  time  I would  try  and  locate  the  Indians  and  watch 
their  movements. 

The  first  four  or  five  days  I didn’t  go  very  far  away, 
but  made  an  entire  circuit  of  the  camp  every  day.  After 
being  here  five  or  six  days,  I struck  out  in  a south- 
westerly direction,  intending  to  go  about  ten  or  fifteen 
miles  from  camp. 

Up  to  this  time  I had  not  seen  any  fresh  Indian  sign 
whatever,  and  had  about  concluded  that  we  would  not 
have  any  trouble  this  winter  with  them.  After  riding 
ebout  ten  miles  or  so  I came  to  a nice  little  brook,  and 


Apache,  Black  Hawk’s  Camp. 


& ■ 


Apache  Indians, 


353 


there  being  fine  grass,  I stopped  and  let  my  horse  feed 
for  an  hour  or  more.  I was  riding  my  old  Pinto  that  day 
and  h e was 
also  feeling  ill 
fine. 

About  one 
o'clock  I 
mounted  Pin- 
to and  started 
south,  striking 
for  a high 


mountain, 
from  which  if 
I could  once 
reach  the  top, 

I could,  with 
the  aid  of  my 
glasses,  see  all 
over  the  en- 
tire country. 

While  climb- 
ing this  moun- 
tain I ran  on  to  a bear  cub.  Seeing  that  he  was  very 
fat,  I shot  him  and  lashed  him  behind  my  saddle,  and 
was  soon  climbing  the  mountain  again,  which  was.  in 
places,  steep  and  very  rocky,  with  scattering  pine  trees 
here  and  there.  After  going  about  a half  a mile  and  just 
as  I came  to  the  top  of  a steep  little  pitch,  I came  face 
to  face  with  a band  of  Apache  Indians.  I did  not  take 
time  to  count  them,  but  thought  there  were  about  eigh- 
teen or  twenty  of  them.  I fired  four  shots  in  quick  sue- 


I stopped  and  let  my  horse  feed. 


354 


A LIVELY  CHASE. 


cession.  The  first  two  shots  I killed  two  Indians,  but 
the  other  two  I could  not  tell  whether  I got  my  rnen  or 
not,  as  I was  just  in  the  act  of  turning  my  horse  when  I 
fired.  They  fired  a perfect  shower  of  arrows  at  me.  To 
run  back  down  the  mountain  the  way  I came  was  a mat- 
ter of  impossibility,  as  it  was  both  steep  and  rocky,  so  I 
took  around  the  side  of  the  mountain,  thinking  that  I 


I had  to  ride  all  oyer  my  horse. 


would  be  able  in  a few  moments’  run  to  reach  the  top  of 
the  mountain,  where  I could  have  a better  show  to  de- 
fend myself. 

I had  to  ride  all  over  my  horse  to  avoid  the  arrows, 
first  on  one  side,  hanging  by  one  foot  and  one  hand,  then 
on  the  other  side. 

I had  not  run  more  than  one  hundred  yards  until  I 


Pinto  killed. 


355 


knew  there  was  something  wrong  with  my  horse,  for  he 
had  always  before  seemed  to  know  when  I was  in  a tight 
place  and  seemed  eager  to  carry  me  out  of  danger.  I 
gave  him  the  spurs  three  or  four  times  but  he  did  not  in- 
crease his  speed  in  the  least,  and  then  I knew  well  that 
he  had  been  shot,  and  it  always  seemed  a miracle  to  me 
that  I went  through  all  that  and  did  not  get  shot  also. 

It  is  quite  useless  for  me  to  say  I thought  my  time 
had  come.  On  looking  ahead  some  fifty  yards  I saw  a 
pile  of  rocks  about  four  or  five  feet  high,  which  I made 
a bee  line  for.  Getting  to  the  rock  pile  I dismounted 
and  ran  between  two  large  rocks  where  poor  old  Pinto 
tried  to  follow  me,  but  he  received  two  more  arrows  in 
his  hip  and  one  in  his  flank.  He  fell  to  the  ground,  and. 
after  falling  raised  his  head,  and  looking  toward  me, 
whinnied. 

The  poor  faithful  old  fellow  lay  there  and  would 
whinny  for  me  at  intervals  as  long  as  he  lived,  which  was 
perhaps  half  an  hour.  The  reader  can  fancy  my  condi- 
tion just  at  this  time.  Here  I was  almost  surrounded  by 
hostile  Indians  and  the  only  friend  that  I had  with  me 
dead.  I did  not  expect  to  ever  get  away  from  there,  for 
I expected  that  while  a part  of  the  Indians  guarded  me 
the  balance  would  go  off  and  rally  reinforcements. 

I had  made  up  my  mind  to  fight  them  to  the  last  and 
kill  as  many  as  I could  before  they  got  me.  They  made 
three  desperate  charges  for  me  before  dark,  but  as  luck 
would  have  it  I was  always  loaded  for  them.  I piled  up 
rocks  as  I could  get  them  loose  in  a manner  to  give  me 
protection  from  every  quarter,  but  expected  they  would 
reinforce  and  attempt  to  starve  me  out. 


356 


A PERILOUS  POSITION, 


Just  as  it  was  getting  dark,  two  of  the  Indians  crawled 
up  to  within  thirty  feet  of  my  rock  pen.  I was  watch- 
ing them,  and  just  as  they  rose  up  to  fire  I fired  and 
brought  one  of  them  to  the  ground,  thereby  making  an- 
other good  Apache.  The  other  one  ran  away,  and  it 
being  somewhat  dark,  I did  not  get  him. 

This  made  the  fifth  Indian  I had  killed  since  I had 
been  in  my  little  rock  pen  and  I had  fired  eleven  shots. 
After  it  was  good  and  dark  I made  up  my  mind  that  I 
would  get  out  of  there  sometime  during  the  night,  for  to 
remain  there  till  the  morrow  only  meant  death,  and  I 
might  as  well 
lose  my  life 
in  trying  to 
get  away  that 
night  as  to 
remain  there 
and  be  killed 
the  next  day. 

I felt  sure 
they  had  a 
guard  around 
me,  but  1 
made  up  my 
mind  to  make 
a desperate 
effort  to  get 

away.  I I was  always  loaded  and  ready  for  them. 

crawled  to 

where  my  dead  horse  was  laying,  which  was  only  a few 
feet  from  my  rock  house,  cut  the  latigo,  removed  my 


AN  AWFUL  NIGHT. 


357 


saddle  from  the  dead  horse,  lashed  it  to  my  back,  taking 
the  mochilar  or  covering  for  a saddle,  which  I have  de- 
scribed heretofore,  I took  my  knife  and  cut  a hole  in  the 
front  portion  of  the  mochila  where  the  pommel  of  the 
saddle  protrudes,  so  that  I was  able  to  stick  my  head 
through.  The  mochila  was  good  as  a shield,  for  an 
arrow  would  not  go  through  it  except  at  very  short  range. 
I cut  the  reins  off  of  the  bridle,  and  as  the  bit  was  a very 
heavy  one,  I thought  it  would  answer  pretty  well  as  a 
sling  shot  in  close  quarters. 

I had  no  idea  of  getting  out  without  a desperate  fight 
with  ninety-nine  chances  against  me  to  one  in  my  favor. 
After  I had  my  rig  complete  1 started  to  crawl  away  flat 
on  the  ground  like  a snake,  I would  crawl  for  a short 
distance,  then  stop  and  listen.  It  was  very  dark,  there 
being  no  moon  in  the  fore  part  of  the  night.  I was  ex- 
pecting every  minute  to  feel  an  arrow  or  a tomahawk  in 
my  head.  After  working  my  way  down  the  hill  some 
hundred  yards  or  so,  I came  to  a tree  and  raised  up  by 
the  side  of  it.  I stood  and  listened  for  some  time,  but 
could  not  hear  anything  of  the  Indians,  so  I struck  out 
in  the  direction  of  camp,  walking  very  cautiously  for 
some  little  distance. 

After  traveling  about  six  miles  I felt  comparatively 
safe,  knowing  they  could  not  do  anything  toward  track- 
ing me  until  morning  and  did  not  think  they  would  even 
be  able  to  track  me  then. 

I passed  over  a great  deal  of  rocky  country  where 
there  was  but  little  vegetation.  Finally  I laid  down  to 
wait  until  morning,  and  I must  say  that  I never  had  been 
out  in  all  my  life  when  I actually  longed  for  daylight  to 


358 


BACK  AT  CAMP. 


come  as  I did  that  long  and  lonely  night,  and  I believe 
that  I would  freely  have  given  five  hundred  dollars  to 
have  had  a man  there  with  me  that  night;  not  that  I was 
afraid  of  Indians,  for  I considered  that  I had  given  them 
the  slip,  and  did  not  believe  they  would  be  able  to  over- 
take me  before  I would  reach  camp  even  though  they 
should  be  able  to  track  me  the  next  morning. 

I thought  of  my  dying  horse  who  had  been  such  a 
faithful  servant  and  carried  me  out  of  so  many  tight 
places,  and  when  I would  think  of  him  I could  fancy  that 
I could  see  him  raise  his  head  and  whinny  at  me  as  he 
had  done  that  evening  in  his  dying  moments,  seemingly 
asking  me  for  help,  and  I could  not  keep  the  tears  from 
my  eyes.  As  soon  as  it  was  light  I started  for  camp, 
arriving  there  about  ten  o’clock  that  morning.  The  men 
in  camp  had  given  me  up  and  did  not  expect  to  ever  see 
me  any  more,  thinking  that  the  Apaches  had  got  me.  I 
told  the  men  that  we  would  have  to  leave  this  part  of  the 
country  now,  and  that  too,  just  as  soon  as  I could  get  a 
bite  to  eat  and  get  my  saddle  repaired.  While  the  boys 
pulled  up  and  started  to  move  camp  I saddled  up  another 
horse  and  took  my  back  track,  traveling  very  cautiously, 
thinking  they  would  try  to  follow  me  out,  and  I wanted 
to  watch  their  movements  and  see  whether  they  had  re- 
inforced or  not.  I told  the  boys  to  move  northeast  and 
where  to  camp,  the  place  being  ten  miles  from  where  we 
were  then,  and  not  to  build  any  fire  that  night,  also  that 
I would  be  in  camp  some  time  before  morning  this  time, 
I was  very  cautious  not  to  be  surprised  the  second  time. 
I rode  back  within  a mile  of  where  my  dead  horse  lay, 
but  could  not  see  any  Indians,  so  I finally  concluded  that 


A NEW  CAMP. 


359 


it  had  been  a small  hunting  party,  and  seeing  that  they 
could  not  scare  me  out  of  my  rock  pen  by  their  ferocious 
charges,  accompanied  by  a war-whoop  that  would  make 
the  hair  stand  on  the  bravest  mountaineer’s  head,  they 
had  abandoned  the  idea  altogether  and  had  no  doubt  left 
the  ground  before  I started  to  crawl  away  from  my  rock 
pen,  which  had  been  the  means  of  saving  me  from  falling 
their  victim. 

I returned  to  camp,  arriving  shortly  after  dark.  We 
moved  north,  the  men  prospecting  the  country  as  we  went 
and  I scouting,  keeping  a shaip  lookout  to  prevent  a sur- 
prise party,  but  we  did  not  see  any  more  Indians  during 
the  entire  winter.  We  struck  the  Colorado  river  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Green  river. 

Mr.  Campbell  concluded  that  he  would  go  to  south- 
ern Nevada;  taking  a southwesterly  course  from  Green 
river,  I piloted  them  about  one  hundred  miles  and  they 
now  being  in  a country  where  they  were  perfectly  safe  as 
far  as  hostile  Indians  were  concerned,  I left  the  party, 
and  the  most  of  them  it  has  never  been  my  pleasure  to 
meet  since.  I met  one  of  the  party  by  the  name  of  Free- 
man in  Seattle  in  the  year  of  1889.  At  that  time  he  was 
settled  down  in  his  old  neighborhood  in  Illinois  and  had 
a wife  and  five  children.  I can  truthfully  say  that  I 
never  met  five  better  and  more  agreeable  men  to  travel 
with  in  all  my  career  than  those  men  were.  While  with 
them  I never  saw  one  of  them  apparently  out  of  humor 
with  his  companions  or  heard  one  use  any  kind  of  lan- 
guage than  that  of  a gentleman,  Leaving  the  party  I 
struck  for  Salt  Lake  City.  I had  no  trouble  in  finding 


360 


meet  Gen.  Connor. 


the  way,  or  otherwise,  and  arrived  at  Fort  Douglas  about 
the  first  of  March. 

On  arriving  here  I found  General  Connor  just  making 
preparations  to  move  with  almost  his  entire  force  against 
the  Ute  Indians,  who  at  this  time  were  concentrating 
their  forces  in  Cash  Valley,  and  committing  a great  many 
depredations  in  that  part  of  the  country. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


Three  thousand  dead  Indians.— A detective  from 
Chicago. — He  goes  home  with  an  old  Mormon’s 

YOUNGEST  WIFE  AND  GETS  INTO  TROUBLE. THE 

FLIGHT. 


Gen.  Connor  offered  me  a position  as  scout,  which  I 
accepted,  and  on  the  sixth  day  after  my  arrival  at  Fort 
Douglas,  in  company  with  two  other  scouts,  I struck  out 
in  advance  of  the  command.  In  the  forenoon  of  the 
eighth  day  from  the  fort  we  found  the  Indjans  on  a tribu- 
tary of  Cash  Valley  in  a deep  canyon  and  fortified.  They 
had  cut  logs  and  rolled  them  down  the  hill,  piling  them 
on  each  side  of  the  canyon,  several  feet  high  and  had  in- 
termingled them  with  brush.  This  was  the  first  for  Va- 
cation I had  ever  seen  built  by  Indians. 


Apache  Braves. 


Indian  fortifications. 


361 

We  returned  and  met  the  command  that  night,  and 
when  we  were  making  our  report  to  the  General  he  asked 
me  what  the  fortifications  looked  like.  I told  him  that 
I could  not  think  of  anything  to  compare  them  to,  but 
that  I thought  they  could  be  swept  very  easily  by  a How- 
itzer from  above  and  below.  He  asked  me  if  I would 
accompany  one  of  his  commissioned  officers  that  night  to 
see  the  fortifications,  and  I told  him  I would.  After 
supper  that  evening  a Captain  came  to  me,  whose  name 
I am  sorry  to  say  I have  forgotten,  and  asked  me  if  I 
was  the  man  that  was  to  accompany  him  to  the  Indian 
fortifications.  I told  him  that  I was,  and  he  asked  what 
time  we  had  better  start.  I told  him  we  had  better  start 
at  once  as  there  would  be  a moon  in  the  fore  part  of  the 
night,  but  that  the  after  part  would  be  very  dark.  So 
we  mounted  our  horses  and  were  off. 

We  rode  to  within  about  three-quarters  of  a mile  of 
the  fortifications  and  there  we  remained  until  it  was  light 
enough  to  see,  and  then  the  Captain  took  out  his  glasses 
and  scanned  the  whole  country  as  well  as  the  fortifica- 
tions. After  looking  about  half  an  hour  the  Captain 
asked  me  what  I thought  of  it,  and  what  would  be  my 
plan  of  attack.  I told  him  that  I had  no  idea,  as  I had 
never  seen  Indians  fortified  before.  He  said  it  would  be 
a bloody  fight,  I said  yes,  but  I thought  the  blood  would 
all  be  on  one  side.  “Yes,”  replied  the  Captain,  “we 
ought  to  clean  them  out  without  losing  ten  men.” 

We  went  to  our  horses,  mounted,  and  rode  back  to 
the  command  as  quick  as  we  could,  meeting  it  about  four 
miles  from  the  fortifications,  piloted  by  the  two  scouts 
that  had  been  out  with  me  the  day  before. 


362 


THREE  THOUSAND 


The  Captain  and  Gen.  Connor  had  a long  conversa- 
tion as  we  moved  along.  When  within  a mile  of  the 
mouth  of  this  canyon  Gen.  Connor  formed  his  men  in 
line,  one  half  to  go  on  each  side  of  the  canyon  in  which 
the  Indians  were  fortified,  and  the  cannon  were  placed 
at  the  mouth  of  the  canyon. 

I did  not  see  any  Indians  of  any  account  until  the 
command  to  fire  was  given.  When  the  soldiers  com- 
menced to  fire — there  being  about  twelve  hundred — it 
frightened  the  Indians  so  that  they  came  running  out 
from  under  those  logs  and  brush  like  jack  rabbits  and 
were  shot  down  like  sheep.  In  all  my  experience  in  the 
Western  wilds  I never  saw  such  a slaughtering  as  there. 

The  Indians  had  been  taught  by  the  Mormons  that  if 
they  would  fortify  themselves  in  that  way  the  whites 
could  not  harm  them,  teaching  them  also  that  the  Lord 
would  protect  them,  which  was  a great  thing  for  the 
white  people,  for  it  came  so  near  cleaning  the  Utes  up 
that  there  was  only  a little  remnant  left,  and  they  never 
gave  the  white  people  any  more  trouble.  Thus  white 
people  were  enabled  to  pass  through  that  country  unmo- 
lested. Heretofore  it  had  been  one  of  the  most  danger- 
ous parts  of  the  country.  For  all  this  I have  ever  since 
believed  that  the  Mormons,  unintentionally,  did  the 
Gentiles  a great  favor. 

After  the  battle  was  over,  and  as  scouts  are  at  liberty 
to  go  where  they  please,  I rode  over  the  battle-field  in 
company  with  the  other  scouts  and  I never  in  all  my  life 
saw  such  a mangled  up  mass  as  was  there.  Men, 
women  and  children  were  actually  lying  in  heaps,  and  I 


■:  !):  .i  i 


\ 


iOf 


dead  Indians. 


363 


think  all  that  got  away  were  a few  that  hid  among  the 
logs  and  brush. 

I n this  * — ^ 

battle  the 
Captain  told 
me  they  did 
not  lose  a 
man,  and 
had  only 
four  wound- 
ed, while  he 
counted 
over  three 
t h o u s and 
dead  In- 
dians. 

When  I 
returned  to 
Salt  Lake 
City  I was 
as  t onished 
to  see  the 

manner  in  Men,  women  and  children  were  lying  in  heaps. 

which  the 

Salt  Lake  papers  abused  Gen  Connor  for  slaughtering 
the  Indians  in  the  manner  he  had,  when  they  (the  Mor- 
mons) had  planned  the  slaughter,  although  not  meaning 
for  it  to  be  a slaughter  of  Indians. 

Gen.  Connor  said  that  the  Mormons  had  thought  that 
the  Indians  would  fortify  themselves,  and  when  attacked 
by  the  soldiers,  they  would  wipe  them  (the  soldiers)  off 


364 


the  Mormons. 


the  face  of  the  earth.  The  idea  had  been  so  thoroughly 
instilled  into  the  minds  of  the  Indians  by  the  Mormons 
that  the  Lord  would  protect  them  if  only  fortified  in  this 
manner  that  they  depended  most  altogether  on  the  Lord 
to  protect  them. 

The  third  day  on  our  return  trip  we  came  to  a lit  tie 
place  called  Ogden.  Here  the  General  made  preparations 
to  leave  the  command  and  go  ahead,  accompanied  by  one 
company  of  cavalry.  When  they  were  ready  I was  directed 
to  accompany  him,  which  I did.  He  and  I rode  in  the  rear 
of  the  company.  After  riding  some  little  distance  Gen. 
Connor  said:  “Drannan,  I think  I can  put  you  on  the 

track  of  a good  thing  if  it  would  suit  you.”  I asked  him 
in  what  way.  He  asked  me  if  I had  not  heard  of  the 
Mountain  Meadow  massacre  in  Utah.  I said:  ‘ ‘Cer- 
tainly, many  times.”  He  said:  “Now  be  honest  with 

me  and  tell  me  who  you  think  did  that  horrible  work.” 
I told  him  the  Mormons,  and  the  Mormons  alone. 

He  then  told  me  there  was  a man  at  the  fort  from 
Chicago  trying  to  work  up  the  case  and  if  possible  to 
find  out  just  by  whose  authority  the  Mormous  had  mas- 
sacred those  emigrants,  and  he  said:  “From  what  I 

have  seen  of  you,  I think  you  would  be  just  the  man  to 
help  him  work  up  the  case.” 

I said:  “General,  I think  you  are  mistaken.  I nover 
did  any  detective  work  among  the  white  people,  and  I 
fear  I am  not  good  enough  a talker  to  obtain  the  desired 
information.”  The  General  said:  “All  right,  we’ll  see.” 

We  reached  the  Fort  that  night  at  dark,  having  ridden 
forty  miles  that  day.  That  evening  the  General  told  rue 


Eagle  Rock,  Rio  Vigin,  Utah. 


TURN  DETECTIVE, 


J«5 

to  come  to  his  quarters  the  following  day  at  ten  o’clock 
and  he  would  introduce  me  to  the  gentleman  referred  to. 

I went  to  the  General’s  quarters  and  the  gentleman 
was  present.  His  name  was  Howard.  By  whose  author- 
ity he  was  working  up  this  case  I never  learned,  but, 
however,  after  questioning  me  for  some  time  as  to  what 
I knew  of  the  Mormons,  he  asked  me  what  I would 
charge  him  per  month  to  go  along  with  him,  play  the 
hypocrite,  and  try  to  help  work  up  the  case.  I told  him 
it  was  all  new  work  to  me;  that  I knew  nothing  of  de- 
tective work  whatever.  I said  that  if  it  were  a case  of 
Indians  it  would  be  quite  different,  but  I did  not  think  I 
would  be  of  much  service  to  him  working  among  the 
Mormons. 

He  proposed  that  he  would  furnish  me  a suit  of 
clothes  suitable  for  the  part  I was  to  play,  furnish  money 
to  pay  my  expenses,  such  as  hotel  bills,  whiskey  bills, 
ball-room  bills,  and  pay  me  fifty  dollars  per  month,  I to 
do  as  he  told  me,  or  as  near  as  I could.  “And,  at  the 
end  of  one  month,”  said  he,  “if  your  work  does  not  suit 
me,  or  if  I don’t  suit  you,  I can  pay  you  off  and  you  can 
go  your  way;  or  if  you  stay  and  we  work  up  this  case  as 
I anticipate,  as  soon  as  the  work  is  completed  I will  pay 
you  one  hundred  dollars  per  month  instead  of  fifty.” 

Under  these  conditions  I went  to  work  for  him,  and 
the  next  two  days  were  spent  in  drilling  me  on  Mormon 
phrases,  their  customs  and  so  on,  he  having  been  there 
some  three  months,  had  got  pretty  well  posted  on  the 
Mormon  doctrine. 

When  I got  my  new  suit  of  clothes  on  and  he  got  my 


3 66 


WE  GO  TO  CHURCH. 


hair  fixed  up  just  to  suit  him  I looked  in  the  mirror,  and 
I could  hardly  believe  that  it  was  Will  Drannan. 

The  third  day  we  mounted  our  horses  and  started 
across  the  country  to  a little  town  called  Provo,  which  is 
about  forty  miles  from  Salt  Lake,  if  I have  not  forgotten. 

Here,  we  are  both  Mormons,  are  brothers,  and  our 
business  buying  cattle;  looking  around  to  see  who  has 
cattle  to  sell.  We  arrived  at  Provo  on  Sunday  evening 
and  made  the  acquaintance  of  two  young  men  who  were 
Mormons.  They  asked  us  to  go  to  church  with  them. 
“All  right,”  said  Mr.  Howard,  “but  where  will  my 
brother  and  I stay  to-night?”  The  eldest  of  the  two 
young  men  said:  “One  of  you  can  stay  with  me  and  the 

other  can  stay  with  Jim,”  referring  to  his  chum.  So  it 
fell  to  my  lot  to  go  with  Jim  after  church. 

On  our  way  to  church,  naturally  enough  the  boys 
asked  our  names,  and  Howard  spoke  up  and  said:  “My 

name  is  George  Howard,  and  this  is  my  brother  Frank.” 
And  I will  tell  you  now  with  all  candor  I did  not  feel 
right  over  this,  for  it  was  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  I 
had  ever  lived  under  an  assumed  name,  but  I had  agreed 
to  do  what  I could,  and  although  I would  have  given  the 
best  horse  I had  to  have  been  out  of  the  scrape,  yet  I 
was  into  it  and  I was  determined  to  go  through  with  it  if 
possible.  That  evening  when  we  came  out  of  church 
Jim  gave  me  an  introduction  to  his  two  sisters  and  they 
asked  me  to  walk  home  with  them  from  church,  and  I 
did  so. 

After  conversing  with  them  for  sometime  and  getting 
a little  acquainted  with  them,  I asked  the  girl  on  my  left 
how  old  she  was,  and  she  said  she  was  seventeen.  I 


Temples  of  the  Virgin,  Rio  Virgin,  Utah. 


Mountain  Meadow  massacre. 


367 


asked  ber  how  long  she  had  lived  in  this  country.  She 
said:  :vjy  father  was  one  of  the  first  settlers  in  this 

country.  He  came  here  among  the  fir -i  emigrants  and 
I was  raised  here  in  chis  country.” 

“Is  that  so?”  I asked.  “Then  you  were  here  in  this 
part  of  the  country  at  .he  time  of  the  Mountain  Meadow 
massacre?”  “Yes,”  said  she,  “but  you  know  we  must 
not  talk  about  that. ” “Well,”  said  I,  “you  know  they 
were  all  Gentiles  that  were  killed  and  what’s  the  differ- 
ence?” “Well,”  she  said,  “I  think  it  was  all  wrong  any 
way.” 

I asked  her  if  her  father  was  in  that  fight  and  she 
said:  “Let’s  don’t  talk  about  that,  please  don’t  ask  me 

any  more  questions  about  it.” 

By  this  time  we  had  reached  the  gate,  and  the  con- 
versation stopped  for  that  time.  The  next  day  I tried  to 
get  a chance  to  talk  to  her,  but  my  efforts  were  all  in 
vain.  That  afternoon  I met  Howard  and  told  him  of 
the  conversation  I had  with  the  young  lady,  and  he  in- 
sisted on  my  working  on  her  father  if  I could  get  a chance 
to  have  a private  conversation  with  her. 

On  Wednesday  night  there  was  to  be  a big  dance  at 
the  church,  and  it  being  free  to  all,  we  attended  it.  In 
the  mean  time  I had  engaged  the  company  of  those  two 
ycung  ladies  for  the  dance.  I paid  all  due  respect  to  the 
young  lady,  but  did  not  mention  the  affair  of  which  I was 
desirous  of  obtaining  information  until  we  were  returning 
from  supper  to  the  church,  when  I again  made  mention 
of  the  affair  in  such  a manner  that  I did  not  think  she 
would  suspect  anything  wrong.  But  she  gave  me  to  un- 


368 


GETTING  CLUES, 


derstand  in  plain  language  that  she  would  not  converse 
on  that  subject  under  any  circumstances. 

I saw  there  was  no  use  to  waste  any  more  time  with 
her  and  did  not  mention  the  subject  again. 

We  remained  in  this  place  ten  days,  during  which 
time  I formed  the  acquaintence  of  an  old  man  by  thp 
name  of  Snyder,  who  had  five  wives,  three  of  them  liv 
ing  at  his  res- 


idence in  the 
town  and  the 
other  two  on 
his  farm  in 
the  country. 

Beingabroth- 
e r Mormon, 

M r . Snyder 
one  day  dur- 
ing my  stay 
there  invited  me  home 
with  him  for  dinner,  and 
on  entering  the  dining 
room  he  introduced  me 
to  his  three  wives,  the 
youngest  of  the  three  be- 
ing about  twenty  years 
old,  while  Snyder  was 
sixty-one  years  old. 

That  afternoon  How- 
ard and  myself  were  tak- 
ing a walk,  and  by  chance  met  this  young  Mrs.  Snyder, 
whom  I introduced  to  my  brother.  He  asked  to  accom- 


He  walked  on  home  with  her. 


at  Salt  Lake  City. 


369 


pany  her  on  her  walk,  to  which  proposition  she  unhesi- 
tatingly assented,  and  he  walked  on  home  with  him. 

Her  husband  was  not  at  home,  but  before  Howard 
left  the  gate  he  heard  one  of  Snyder’s  other  wives  say  to 
her:  ‘ ‘I’ll  tell  on  you,  and  you  will  not  get  to  go  out 

again.” 

This  convinced  him  that  there  was  a great  deal  of 
jealousy  existing  between  Mr.  Snyder’s  wives.  He  said 
she  was  well  posted  in  everything  pertaining  to  the  Mor- 
mon doctrine,  and  at  the  same  time  bitterly  opposed  to 
their  proceedings. 

The  afternoon  following  George  Howard  and  I took 
a stroll  down  to  Salt  Lake  City,  which  was  a distance  of 
three  miles. 

We  had  been  in  the  city  but  a short  time  and  were 
walking  up  Main  street,  when  on  casting  my  eyes  across 
the  street  I saw  old  man  Snyder  standing  talking  to  Por- 
ter Rockwell  and  Bill  Hickman.  They  were  just  across 
Main  street  immediately  opposite  us,  and  George  had  not 
yet  got  sight  of  them.  Those  two  men  were  supposed  to 
be  Brigham  Young’s  “destroying  angels,”  and  their  busi- 
ness was  to  put  any  one  out  of  the  way  who  had  fallen 
under  the  ban  of  the  Mormon  Church. 

These  two  men  had  been  pointed  out  to  me  befoie, 
and  as  soon  as  I got  sight  of  them  I said  in  a low  tone: 
‘‘There  are  the  leaders  of  the  Danites. ” 

When  he  looked  across  at  them  old  man  Snyder  was 
pointing  his  finger  direct  at  us,  and  Rockwell  and  Hick- 
man seemed  to  be  very  eager  to  get  a good  look  at  us. 

“George  said:  “This  is  no  place  for  us.  Let’s  get 

back  to  the  Fort.”  And  all  the  talking  I could  do  1 


37o 


back  at  Port  Douglas. 


could  not  make  him  believe  that  we  were  perfectly  safe 
there  in  the  city  in  broad  daylight.  His  very  countenance 
showed  uneasiness  to  extremity.  He  had  been  there 
long  enough  to  be  thoroughly  posted  in  all  their  laws, 
customs,  etc.,  and  didn’t  seem  to  think  it  would  be 
healthy  for  us  there  from  that  time  on.  However,  I car?, 
truthfully  say  that  we  made  the  trip  to  the  Fort  in  much 
less  time  than  we  did  from  the  Fort  to  town,  notwith- 
standing it  was  all  up  grade. 

On  our  arrival  at  the  Fort  we  went  to  Gen.  Connor’s 
quarters  and  told  him  the  whole  story  just  as  it  occurred. 
The  General  said:  '‘The  thing  is  up  with  you  now  How- 
ard, you  might  as  well  quit  and  go  home.  You  can  do 
no  more  good  here  now.  You  are  perfectly  safe  here  in 
the  Fort,  but  the  moment  you  are  out  of  sight  of  it  you 
are  in  danger  of  your  life.  But  you  will  have  one  com- 
pany of  cavalry  to  protect  you  when  you  go  to  leave  the 
Fort. 

It  was  really  laughable  to  see  the  way  Howard  would 
tremble  and  shake  while  Gen.  Connor  was  talking  to 
him,  and  he  was  anxious  to  get  out  of  the  country  and 
wanted  me  to  go  with  him,  it  being  the  wrong  time  oi 
year  to  catch  a train  going  East.  He  thought  if  he  could 
get  to  Fort  Bridger,  which  was  one  hundred  miles  east  of 
Fort  Douglas,  he  would  be  safe  from  the  Mormons,  and 
would  stand  equally  as  good  a show  to  strike  a train 
going  eastward  as  he  would  at  Salt  Lake. 

Before  we  were  ready  to  start  for  Fort  Bridger  there 
came  a man  to  Fort  Douglas  who  had  been  wagon  boss 
for  Maj.  Russell  the  year  before.  He  had  just  received 
a letter  from  his  former  employer  requesting  him  to  come 


Lemon’s  Peak,  Rio  Virgin,  Utah. 


we  start  East. 


37i 


at  once  to  Fort  Kearney.  He  was  anxious  to  find  some 
one  to  travel  with,  as  it  was  not  safe  for  one  to  travel 
alone  in  that  country,  and  it  was  a long  and  tedious  trip 
this  time  of  year. 

The  Pony  Express  was  then  running,  but  outside  of 
that  we  were  not  likely  to  see  any  one  on  the  trip. 

They  insisted  on  me  accompanying  them,  and  being 
anxious  to  cross  over  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountains, 
I agreed  to  join  them.  Having  two  saddle  horses  myself 
I told  them  three  horses  between  them  would  be  enough, 
for  in  case  of  emergency  I would  use  one  of  my  horses 
for  a pack  animal.  The  next  two  days  were  spent  in 
getting  ready  for  the  trip,  Mr.  Damson,  the  wagon  boss, 
having  procured  three  horses  for  himself  and  Howard, 
Mr.  Howard  thinking  it  might  not  be  conducive  to  his 
health  to  leave  the  Fort  to  look  for  horses. 

Getting  everything  in  readiness,  we  made  the  start 
just  at  dark,  going  the  Emigrant  canyon  route,  striking 
Echo  canyon  fifty  miles  from  Salt  Lake  City,  making  the 
trip  that  far  without  stopping  to  let  our  horses  feed  or 
even  to  eat  anything  ourselves.  We  did  this  because  we 
wished  to  get  beyond  the  Mormon  settlements  without 
being  discovered  by  them.  We  reached  Fort  Bridger 
the  third  day  and  there  took  in  two  more  companions, 
John  Scudder  and  John  Korigo,  who  had  been  at  work  at 
the  Fort  all  winter  hauling  wood  for  the  Government. 
They  had  earned  a little  money  and  were  returning  to 
their  respective  homes,  one  living  in  Missouri  and  the 
other  in  Pennsylvania.  We  were  now  five  in  number 
and  calculated  to  make  Fort  Kearney  in  fifteen  days, 


372 


arrive  at  Fort  Kearney. 


which,  if  I remember  rightly,  is  called  six  hundred  miles 
from  Fort  Bridger. 

We  crossed  Green  river  and  took  the  Bitter  creek 
route,  thinking  that  would  be  the  safest  from  hostile  In- 
dians; but  when  we  got  to  the  head  of  Bitter  creek  the 
Pony  Express  rider  informed  us  that  the  Indians  were 
very  bad  on  the  North  Platte  river,  having  killed  two  ex- 
press riders  the  week  before. 

This  frightened  the  boys  badly,  for  not  one  of  them 
had  ever  been  engaged  in  an  Indian  fight,  and  all  were 
free  to  admit  that  they  were  not  hankering  after  expe- 
rience of  that  kind. 

After  we  struck  North  Platte  we  saw  considerable  In- 
dian sign  every  day,  but  it  was  evident  that  the  reds  were 
in  little  bands. 

From  now  on  we  made  a dry  camp  every  night, 
always  stopping  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  to  let  our 
horses  graze  while  we  did  our  cooking  to  avoid  building 
our  fire  after  dark.  Then  we  would  mount  and  ride  until 
after  dark  and  make  a dry  camp.  This  was  done  in 
order  to  avoid  an  attack  while  in  camp,  but  we  made  the 
entire  trip  without  seeing  an  Indian. 

On  my  arrival  at  Fort  Kearney  I met  my  old  friend 
Jim  Bridger,  who  was  waiting  there  for  a man  by  the 
name  of  Jim  Boseman,  who  was  on  his  way  with  a large 
train  of  emigrants  to  the  eastern  part  of  Montana,  the 
same  country  that  Bridger,  Kit  Carson,  Beckwith  and  I 
passed  through  in  1856  when  the  Indians  were  so  bad. 

Jim  Bridger  had  met  Boseman  the  fall  before  and  had 
promised  to  pilot  him  through  to  that  part  of  Montana, 
for  which  he  was  to  receive  five  hundred  dollars,  it  also 


meet  Jim  Bridger. 


373 


being  understood  that  there  would  be  at  least  fifty  men 
in  the  train  and  all  well  armed. 

Bridger  was  just  in  receipt  of  a letter  from  Boseman 
stating  that  he  would  be  there  on  or  about  a certain  date 
with  two  hundred  men,  most  all  of  whom  had  families. 

Jim  was  very  anxious  to  have  me  join  him,  offering 
to  divide  the  spoils. 

I told  him  it  would  be  folly  for  me  to  accompany  him, 
as  he  would  be  able  to  handle  the  train  alone  and  would 
then  have  the  five  hundred  dollars  himself,  and  further- 
more, I did  not  care  for  work  of  that  kind  that  summer, 
as  I would  rather  return  to  Taos  and  buy  a band  of  sheep 
and  settle  down,  for  I thought  I had  enough  money,  if 
properly  handled,  to  make  me  a good  living. 

At  this  Jim  laughed  heartily  and  said:  “Yes,  you’ll 

settle  down  with  a band  of  sheep  when  you  are  too  old 
to  straddle  a horse  and  your  eyes  too  dim  to  take  in  an 
Indian.  I have  often  thought  of  the  same  thing,”  he 
continued.  “I  have  a place  picked  out  now  about  fif- 
teen miles  east  of  Fort  Bridger  on  Black’s  Fork,  near  the 
lone  tree.  There  is  where  I am  going  to  settle  down 
after  I make  this  trip.  I can  then  sit  in  my  door  and 
with  a good  glass  I can  see  Fort  Bridger  that  was  named 
for  me  and  which  I feel  proud  of  to-day.” 

Jim  Bridger  made  this  trip  north  with  Boseman 
train  into  the  valley  where  the  town  of  Boseman  now 
stands,  without  the  loss  of  a man  or  beast  on  the  entire 
trip,  and  returning  to  South  Platte,  married  an  Indian 
woman  of  the  Arappahoe  tribe,  went  to  Black’s  Fork  and 
took  up  a ranch  within  five  miles  of  the  lone  pine  tree. 
Here  he  lived  with  his  Indian  wife  for  about  five  years. 


374 


Jim’s  children. 


when  she  died,  leaving  two  children,  a girl  and  a boy, 
which  I have  been  told  he  sent  to  school,  gave  them  a 
good  education,  and  they  now  live,  I think,  in  the  state 
of  Missouri. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


Through  to  Bannock. — A dance  of  peace. — Fright 

OF  THE  NEGROES. A FREIGHT  TRAIN  SNOWED  IN 

AND  A TRIP  ON  SNOW-SHOES.— SOME  VERY  TOUGH 
ROAD  AGENTS. 


While  I was  at  Fort  Kearney  another  long  train  of 
emigrants  came  along,  en-route  for  Bannock,  Montana. 
They  did  not  know  just  where  Bannock  was,  and  through 
the  influence  of  Jim  Bridger  and  Gen.  Kearney,  I was 
offered  employment  in  guiding  them  at  seventy-five  dol- 
y lars  per  month,  with  provisions. 

I told  them  I did  not  know  where  Bannock  was,  but 
that  I could  take  them  to  any  portion  of  Montana  they 
asked  to  go.  I was  not  long  making  the  bargain  and 
making  preparations  to  get  started.  We  went  back  over 
the  same  road  as  far  as  Fort  Bridger  that  I had  come 
only  a short  time  before.  There  was  not  a person  in  the 
entire  train  that  had  ever  seen  a hostile  Indian,  and  very 


START  FOR  BANNOCK,  MONTANA. 


375 


few  of  them  had  ever  traveled  outside  of  their  own  state. 
The  most  of  them  were  from  Indiana,  and  most  of  the 
men  had  families,  and  I presume  they  were  fleeing  from 
the  draft;  that  being  the  time  of  the  late  war. 

I experienced  a great  deal  of  trouble  in  getting  those 
people  organized  and  trained  in  a manner  to  enable  us  to 
protect  ourselves  against  the  hostile  Indians. 

In  this  train  there  were  two  negros,  whose  names 
were  Joe  and  Bab.  Joe  was  driving  a team  for  his  grub 
and  Bab  was  cooking  for  two  families  for  his  grub.  The 
people  of  the  train  fell  into  the  habit  of  calling  me  Cap- 
tain, and  every  time  I would  ride  along  where  this  Joe 
or  Bab  were,  they  would  invariably  salute  me  by  lifting 
their  hats  or  by  taking  them  off  entirely  and  then  they 
would  say:  “Marse  Capting,  de  ye  see  any  Injuns?” 

One  day  my  scouts  came  in  from  the  south  and  re- 
ported seeing  a band  of  Indians,  about  ten  or  fifteen  in 
number,  two  miles  away  and  coming  direct  for  the  train. 
I struck  out  alone  at  full  speed  in  that  direction  to  ascer- 
tain what  kind  of  Indians  they  were,  there  being  another 
man  whose  business  it  was  to  take  charge  of  the  train  at 
any  time  I was  away,  and  in  case  of  an  attack  or  danger 
of  such,  it  was  his  business  to  corral  the  train  and  pre- 
pare for  battle. 

I had  only  gone  a half  mile  when  I met  the  Indians, 
and  they  proved  to  be  Arapahoes.  I was  personally 
acquainted  with  all  of  them  and  asked  them  to  go  to  the 
train  with  me,  telling  them  it  was  just  over  the  ridge. 
This  they  agreed  to  do,  saying:  ‘‘We  will  go  to  the 

train  and  then  all  will  go  out  and  kill  some  buffalo  this 
evening.” 


376 


EMIGRANTS  SCARED. 


We  rode  leisurely  along  until  in  sight  of  the  train,  and 
the  moment  the  people  saw  me  riding  with  the  Indians 
on  each  side  of  me,  they  felt  sure  that  I had  been  taken 
prisoner,  and  all  the  hustling  and  bustling  around  to  get 
those  wagons  corralled,  beat  anything  I had  ever  seen, 
and  they  were  all  so  badly  excited  that  it  was  no  use  to 
try  to  hello  at  them. 

They  were  afraid  to  shoot  at  the  Indians  for  fear  tb^V 
might  shoot  me,  or  if  they  did  not  shoot  me,  they  we* e 
afraid  that  if  they  should  shoot  the  Indians  they  wouw 
retaliate  by  shooting  me  down. 

The  wagons  being  corralled,  we  rode  around  the  en- 
tire train.  I left  the  Indians  and  rode  inside  of  the  cor- 
ral and  told  the  people  that  these  were  peaceable  Indians 
and  were  all  friends  of  mine,  and  that  I wanted  every 
man,  woman  and  child  to  come  out  and  shake  hands  with 
them.  Quite  a number  hesitated,  believing  that  I had 
been  taken  prisoner  by  the  Indians  and  had  been  com- 
pelled to  do  this  in  order  to  save  my  own  life,  and  be- 
lieving that  those  Indians  wanted  to  murder  the  entire 
train. 

But  after  reasoning  with  them  for  a while  I succeeded 
*n  convincing  them  that  the  Indians  were  peaceable. 
Then  they  all  went  out  and  shook  hands  except  the  two 
darkies,  who  were  not  to  be  found  any  where  about  the 
train  at  that  time.  I then  told  the  man  whose  duty  it 
was  to  look  after  the  train  in  my  absence,  to  drive  about 
three  miles  and  camp,  describing  the  place,  and  that  I 
would  go  with  the  Indians  and  kill  some  buffalo,  so  that  we 
might  have  fresh  meat,  telling  him  to  have  each  family 
cook  a little  bread  extra  for  the  Indians,  and  that  they 


THE  NEGROES  MISSING. 


377 


would  furnish  meat  enough  to  do  to-night  and  to-morrow, 
and  was  off  for  the  buffalo  hunt. 

The  Indians  told  me 
there  was  a band  of  buf- 
falo about  two  or  three 
miles  ahead  of  us  near 
the  road. 

We  pushed  on,  on 
the  main  road,  and  sure 
enough  right  in  the  little 
valley  where  I had  told 
the  captain  to  camp,  we 
saw  a band  of  buffalo 
feeding.  We  all  made  a 
dash  for  them,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  killing  five  He  ciaime(j  that  he  had  been  asleep, 
fat  buffalo,  and  on  the 
ground,  enough  for  the  entire  train. 

As  soon  as  the  train  was  corralled  and  the  stock  turned 
loose,  we  appointed  four  men,  who  claimed  to  know 
something  of  butchering,  to  cut  up  and  distribute  the 
meat  among  the  people  of  the  train.  Up  to  this  time 
the  darkey  cook  had  not  been  seen  since  I came  over  the 
hill  in  company  with  those  Indians.  A certain  lady  in 
the  train  said  she  thought  that  when  he  saw  the  Indians 
coming  he  had  run  off  and  hid  in  the  sage  brush,  but  after 
the  fires  were  started  he  crawled  out  of  one  of  the  wagons 
where  he  had  been  hid,  and  claimed  that  he  had  been 
asleep  all  this  time  and  did  not  know  anything  about 
any  “Injuns,”  but  it  was  a difficult  matter  to  make  the 
people  in  the  train  believe  this  yarn.  I had  the  Indians 


378 


A PEACE  DANCE. 


build  their  fire  outside  of  the  corral,  and  while  they  were 
preparing  their  meat  I went  around  and  collected  bread 
enough  of  different  ones  in  the  train  for  them,  also  a bowl 
of  molasses.  After  all  had  their  supper  over  I proposed 
to  the  Indians  that  we  have  a dance. 

This  dance  is  what  they  call  a dance  of  peace,  and  is 
carried  on  in  a manner  like  this:  They — or  all  that  wish 

to  participate  in  the  dance — form  in  a circle  around  the 
camp-fire,  singing,  or  rather  humming,  a certain  tune. 
I went  to  the  people  of  the  train  and  told  them  that  the 
Indians  and  myself  were  going  to  have  a peace  dance, 
and  all  that  wished  to  see  it  could  come  to  the  camp-fire 
and  look  on.  I think  every  man,  woman  and  child  came 
out  to  see  the  dance,  which  lasted  about  two  hours. 
After  the  dance  was  over  one  of  the  young  Indians  in  the 
crowd  came  to  me  and  said  if  I would  interpret  for  him 
he  would  be  pleased  to  make  a speech  for  my  friends, 
providing  they  were  willing  for  him  to  do  so.  When  he 
told  the  other  Indians  he  was  going  to  make  a speech 
they  all  sat  down  in  a circle  around  the  camp-fire,  seven- 
teen in  number,  and  were  perfectly  silent.  I feld  them 
that  this  young  Indian  wanted  to  know  if  they  would  care 
to  hear  him  make  a speech.  All  were  anx.hus  to  hear 
him,  which  would  be  something  new  to  them.  I told 
them  that  he  would  make  the  speech  in  his  own  language 
and  I would  interpret  it  word  for  word  as  near  as  I knew 
how. 

When  I told  him  they  would  be  pleased  to  hear  from 
him  he  walked  up  to  me,  laid  his  hand  on  my  shoulder, 
and  said: 

“I  have  known  this  friend  of  mine  a great  many  years 


The  Peace  Dance. 


Page  378 


THE  SPEECH. 


379 


A long  time  ago  when  he  use  to  come  to  our  village,  we 
always  killed  a dog,  and  after  we  would  have  a feast  on 
dog  meat,  we  always  smoked  the  pipe  of  peace,  and  all 
of  the  Arapahoes  are  his  friends.” 

He  continued  this  manner  of  speaking  about  fifteen 
minutes,  to  the  amusement  of  the  entire  train,  and  when 
he  took  his  seathe  wanted  some  one  else  to  speak,  but  no 
one  wrould  attempt  to  respond  to  him,  thus  winding  up 
the  amusements  for  the  evening. 

In  a conversation  that  evening  with  the  Indians,  they 
told  me  their  business  out  there,  which  was  to  keep  the 
Sioux  Indians  off  of  their  hunting  ground. 

The  Sioux  and  they  were  on  friendly  terms,  but  some- 
times the  Sioux  would  steal  over  on  their  hunting  ground. 
They  proposed  to  accompany  us  through  the  dangerous 
part  of  the  country. 

The  morning  following  I told  the  men  in  the  train  of 
the  generous  proposition  which  the  Indians  had  made 
me,  and  told  them  if  they  would  furnish  the  Indians  with 
bread  they  would  keep  them  in  meat.  I also  told  them 
that  we  were  now  in  the  most  dangerous  part  of  the 
Sioux  country,  and  that  as  long  as  those  Indians  were 
with  us  we  were  in  no  danger  whatever  from  the  fact 
that  when  the  Sioux  saw  those  Indians  with  us  we  were 
supposed  to  be  their  friends,  and  they  dare  not  trouble 
us  in  the  least. 

This,  however,  was  more  than  agreeable  to  the  entire 
train,  relieving  the  scouts  of  their  duty,  also  the  night 
guards.  I made  arrangements  with  the  Indians  to  travel 
three  days,  and  we  then  pulled  out.  Just  when  we  were 
almost  ready  to  start,  one  young  lady  in  the  crowd  ss' ) 


380 


FRIENDLY  ARAPAHOES. 


to  me;  “Captain,  I want  to  ask  you  one  question,  And 
will  you  tell  me  the  truth?”  I said:  “Most  assuredly  I 
will.”  She  said:  “I  want  to  know  whether  it  was  true 
that  when  you  visited  those  Indians  they  always  killed  a 
dog  aad  ate  the  meat?” 

I told  her  it  was  true  as  gospel,  and  said  we  always 
considered  dog  meat  the  finest  in  the  land,  and  only  the 
chief  and  his  most  intimate  friends  were  able  to  afford 
dog  meat.  She  said  she  was  astonished  to  hear  me  talk 
in  such  a manner.  She  said:  “The  most  laughable 

part  of  the  proceedings  the  evening  before  was  the  action 
of  the  darkey  cook,  Bab,  who  stood  away  back  in  the 
outer  edge  of  the  crowd  when  you  and  those  Indians  were 
dancing.  You  could  have  knocked  his  eyes  off  with  a 
frying-pan  and  not  have  touched  his  face.” 

All  went  well.  The  Indians  traveled  with  us  three 
days  as  they  had  agreed  to,  which  brought  us  to  the  head 
of  Bitter  creek.  We  killed  a few  buffalo  all  along  the 
way,  and  when  the  Indians  were  ready  to  leave  us  they 
had  killed  all  the  meat  that  the  train  could  take  care  of. 

This  being  as  far  as  they  had  agreed  to  accompany 
us,  they  were  to  start  back  the  following  morning  and 
that  night  we  had  another  peace  dance.  The  Indians 
invited  all  in  the  train  to  participate  in  the  dance,  but 
none  would  take  a part;  so  they  and  myself  had  the 
dancing  to  ourselves  again  The  next  morning  when 
they  were  ready  to  leave  us  I told  the  people  in  the  train 
to  all  come  outside  of  the  corral,  both  old  and  young, 
and  form  in  line  so  those  Indians  could  shake  hands  with 
all  of  them,  telling  them  that  they  had  done  us  a great 
favor  in  escorting  us  through  the  dangerous  part  of  the 


TAKING  LEAVE. 


381 


country,  and  that  this  shaking  hands  they  considered  a 
great  token  of  friendship. 

This  request  was  complied  with,  and  the  Indians  all 
passed  down  the  line  of  people,  shaking  hands  with  each 
one.  After  they  were  done  shaking  hands  with  all  the 
train  they  all  came  and  shook  hands  with  me,  mounted 
their  ponies,  and  rode  away  as  fast  as  their  horses  could 
run. 

We  pulled  on  for  Fort  Bridger,  all  going  smoothly, 
for  we  were  in  the  Bitter  creek  country  and  had  no  fear 
of  Indians  in  that  section.  The  day  we  arrived  at  Fort 
Bridger  we  sent  four  men  on  ahead  to  ascertain,  if  pos- 
sible, where  Bannock  was.  Here  they  met,  by  chance, 
some  men  from  what  was  then  called  East  Bannock  and 
from  them  we  learned  just  where  Bannock  was  located, 
it  being  on  a west  tributary  of  the  Missouri  river.  We 
also  learned  from  these  parties  that  there  was  a great  ex- 
citement at  this  time  over  mines  that  had  been  struck 
some  eighty  miles  east  of  Bannock,  on  what  was  known 
as  Alder  Gulch,  or  Stinking  Water,  but  they  were  not 
able  to  advise  us  as  to  whether  or  not  we  could  get  there 
with  wagons. 

Now  I knew  just  where  we  wanted  to  go,  and  we  took 
what  was  known  as  the  Landers  cut-off,  and  pulled  for 
Fort  Hall,  reaching  the  fort  without  encountering  any 
trouble  with  the  Indians  or  otherwise.  The  second  day 
after  passing  Fort  Hall,  while  we  were  crossing  Snake 
river,  we  met  a crowd  of  miners  just  from  Alder  Gulch, 
on  their  way  to  Denver,  Colorado,  for  their  families. 
From  them  we  learned  where  Alder  Gulch  was,  and  those 
miners  spoke  in  such  high  terms  of  the  richness  of  that 


382 


Alder  Gulch, 


place  that  a great  many  in  the  train  wanted  to  go  there 
instead  of  going  to  Bannock,  while  others  wanted  to  go 
to  Bannock,  that  being  where  they  had  started. 

That  night  they  took  a vote  to  decide  as  to  which 
place  they  should  go,  which  resulted  in  favor  of  Alder 
Gulch,  so  we  pulled  for  Alder  Gulch  instead  of  Bannock. 

We  were  now  in  the  Bannock  country.  I did  not 
hear  of  any  depredations  being  committed  by  the  Indians, 
but  I used  all  precautions  possible  in  order  to  prevent  a 
surprise  by  the  redskins. 

Every  few  days  we  would  meet  a little  squad  of  min- 
ers, all  telling  exciting  stories  about  the  richness  of  Alder 
Gulch.  They  were  going  home  to  their  families  with  the 
expectation  of  moving  them  out  there  the  following 
spring;  most  of  their  families  being  in  Denver,  Colorado. 
This  all  helped  to  create  an  anxiety  among  the  people  to 
push  on  and  get  through  as  quick  as  possible. 

They  moved  somewhat  faster  now  than  before,  reach- 
ing Virginia  City,  Montana,  about  the  last  of  September, 
this  being  the  trading  point  for  Alder  Gulch.  Here  we 
stopped  and  the  train  paid  me  off. 

I stayed  around  there  about  three  weeks.  One  day 
while  I was  at  Virginia  City  two  men,  Boon  and  Bivian, 
who  owned  the  only  store  of  any  note  in  Virginia  City  at 
that  time,  came  to  me  and  said  that  they  had  a train  of 
twenty-two  wagons  some  where  on  the  road,  but  just 
where  they  did  not  know,  and  they  wished  to  employ  me 
to  go  and  pilot  it  in,  as  their  men  with  the  train  were  all 
inexperienced  in  that  line  of  business,  and  not  acquainted 
with  the  road,  not  having  been  over  any  part  of  it  before, 


PROVISION  TRAIN 


383 


and  they  were  afraid  that  through  carelessness  they  might 
fall  into  the  hands  of  Indians. 

The  train  was  loaded,  principally,  with  flour,  bacon, 
sugar,  coffee  and  tobacco.  Flour  was  then  worth  twen- 
ty-five dollars  per  hundred,  bacon  forty  cents  a pound, 
and  other  things  in  proportion.  On  the  twentieth  of 
September  I took  two  horses  and  started  off  to  meet  the 
freight  train. 

Three  days  from  the  time  I left  Virginia  City  I crossed 
the  summit  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  it  was  snowing 
hard.  I thought  it  doubtful  whether  or  not  they  would 
be  able  to  cross  the  mountains  this  winter,  but  I went 
on,  and  met  them  between  Fort  Hall  and  Soda  Springs. 
I gave  the  wagon-boss  a letter  which  Boon  and  Bivian 
had  sent  him,  and  after  reading  the  letter  he  asked  me 
if  I thought  they  could  cross  the  range  this  fall.  I told 
him  that  it  was  about  one  hundred  and  eighty  miles  from 
there  to  the  summit,  and  if  he  could  make  that  distance 
in  ten  days  he  would  be  able  to  get  through,  but  if  not,  he 
could  not  cross  the  mountains  this  fall.  He  said  it  would 
be  impossible  to  make  it  in  that  length  of  time,  as  the 
cattle  were  all  getting  very  poor  and  weak  and  the  teams 
very  heavily  loaded.  The  next  morning  I struck  out, 
taking  another  man  with  me,  to  try  and  find  if  possible, 
another  ford  on  Snake  river  some  thirty  or  forty  miles 
above  the  old  crossing,  knowing  if  I could  do  that  it 
would  save  us  two  or  three  days’  travel,  and  might  be 
the  means  of  our  getting  across  the  mountains  that  fall. 
I told  the  wagon-boss  that  I would  meet  him  at  Fort 
Hall,  so  in  company  with  one  other  man,  I struck  straight 
across  the  country  for  Snake  river.  The  second  day 


384 


SNOWBOUND. 


about  noon  we  reached  the  river,  and  that  afternoon  we 
succeeded  in  finding  a good  ford,  which  we  called  the 
Island  ford,  there  being  a little  island  just  above. 

We  camped  on  Snake  river  bottom  that  night,  and 
the  next  morning  about  daybreak  we  were  on  our  journey 
for  Fort  Hall,  reaching  the  fort  one  day  ahead  of  the 
train.  Here  we  waited  until  the  train  arrived.  Fron: 
Fort  Hall  we  struck  out  for  Snake,  river.  This  was  all 
an  open  country,  with  the  exception  of  sagebrush.  The 
first  night  after  leaving  the  fort  snow  fell  four  inches  deep 
on  the  valley,  and  I felt  satisfied  then  that  we  would  not 
be  able  to  cross  the  mountains  that  winter.  The  next 
day  the  sncw  all  melted  in  the  valley,  but  hung  low  at 
the  foot  of  the  mountains. 

The  third  day  after  leaving  Fort  Hall  we  reached 
Snake  river,  and  were  successful  in  getting  across  with- 
out any  mishap  whatever.  This  new  ford  is  near  where 
Pocatello,  Idaho,  now  stands.  The  first  night  after 
crossing  the  river  we  camped  on  a little  stream,  which  I 
gave  the  name  of  Rock  creek,  and  I am  told  that  it  is 
still  known  by  that  name.  That  night  the  snow  fell  one 
foot  deep.  I told  the  wagon-boss  the  next  morning  that 
he  was  at  his  journey’s  end  for  the  present  fall.  We  un- 
loaded one  wagon  and  he  took  one  wagon  to  haul  his 
camping  outfit  and  provisions  for  the  winter,  and  returned 
to  the  river  bottom  for  the  purpose  of  wintering  his  stock 
there.  Another  man  and  myself  went  to  work  to  make 
two  pairs  of  snow  shoes,  for  which  we  had  to  use  the 
side-boards  of  a wagon,  there  being  no  timber  suitable  in 
reach  for  that  purpose.  We  were  three  days  preparing 
for  this  trip,  by  which  time  the  snow  had  settled. 


CROSSING  THE  MOUNTAINS, 


385 


All  being  in  readiness  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day 
in  this  camp  I,  accompanied  by  two  other  men  started 
on  horseback,  one  man  going  along  to  bring  the  horses 
back,  and  the  other  to  accompany  me  across  the  moun- 
tains. We  rode  to  within  ten  miles  of  the  summit  of  the 
mountains.  Here  the  snow  was  nearly  two  and  a half 
inches  deep.  Our  horses  were  unable  to  get  anything  to 
eat  except  the  branches  of  quaking  asp  trees  that  we  cut 
and  carried  to  them.  The  next  morning  we  saddled  our 
horses,  one 
of  my  com- 
p a n i o n s 
started  back 
again,  and 
we  mounted 
our  snow 
shoes  and 
started  t o 
climb  the 
m o u n tain, 
this  being 
my  second 
attempt  to 
travel  o n 
snow  shoes. 

I was  some- 
what awk- 
ward at  this 
new  under- 
taking, and  you  can  rest  assured  that  I was  tired  when  I 
reached  the  summit  of  the  mountains,  which  took  the 


On  snow  shoes. 


386 


MEET  ANOTHER  TRAIN 


greater  part  of  the  day.  Each  had  a pair  of  blankets  and 
enough  provisions  strapped  on  his  back  for  the  trip. 

After  reach- 
ing the  sum- 
mit of  the 
mountain  and 
starting  dow  a 
on  the  other 
side  we  found 
it  much  easier 
traveling.  We 
worked  hard 
all  day  and 
made  what  we 
thought  to  be 
twelve  miles, 
camping  that 
night  in  the 
fir  timber.  It 
was  a cold, 

d i s agreeable 
I raised  on  my  stirrups  and  fired.  • i , • , , 

J v . night,  with 

our  one  pair  of  blankets  each,  we  consoled  ourselves 
that  it  was  much  pleasanter  than  to  have  been  here 
afoot  and  alone,  and  no  blankets  at  all.  The  second 
day’s  travel  after  crossing  the  summit  of  this  mountain 
we  met  a freight  train  on  its  return  to  Salt  Lake  City. 
This  train  was  owned  by  a man  named  Goddard.  It  had 
been  across  the  mountains  with  a load  of  freight  and  was 
returning,  like  our  train  on  the  opposite  side  and  was  un- 
able to  proceed  farther,  having  to  return  to  the  low 


“ROAD  AGE  NTS. ” 387 

lands  for  the  purpose  of  wintering  the  stock.  We  aban- 
doned our  snow  shoes  and  procured  conveyance  to  Vir- 
ginia City.  Messrs.  Boon  and  Bivian  were  glad  to  know 
that  their  train  was  safe  from  the  hands  of  the  hostiles, 
but  they  said  they  would  lose  ten  thousand  dollars  bv 
not  getting  it  across  the  mountains  that  fall.  These 
men  having  a room  at  the  rear  of  their  store  where  they 
slept  and  did  their  cooking,  kindly  proposed  that  I should 
stop  and  winter  with  them,  which  hospitable  offer  I 
accepted. 

At  this  time  a stage  ran  from  here  to  Bannock  and 
from  Bannock  to  Boise  and  from  Boise  to  Salt  Lake 
City,  and  the  news  was  coming  in  every  day  of  both 
stage  and  train  robberies  along  this  line,  and  it  actually 
got  so  bad  that  it  was  not  at  all  safe  for  a man  to  step 
outside  of  his  own  door  after  dark,  if  it  was  known  that 
he  had  any  money.  These  robbers  were  known  in  those 
days  as  “road  agents.  ” 


— :0: — 


383 


VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


Organization  of  a vigilance  committee. — End  of  the 
notorious  Slade. — One  hundred  dollars  for  a 
“crow-bait”  horse. — Flour  a dollar  a pound. 


About  this  time  what  was  known  as  a vigilance  com- 
mittee was  organized  at  Virginia  City,  and  other  points 
along  the  stage  line,  for  protection  against  desperadoes. 
During  the  winter  I was  not  out  much,  and  all  the  news 
I could  get  was  from  persons  who  came  to  the  store  to 
trade. 

One  morning  in  the  latter  part  of  January  I went  out 
after  a bucket  of  water  at  daylight,  and  happening  to 
cast  my  eyes  up  a hillside  I could  see  sentinels  walk- 
ing to  and  fro.  I could  not  understand  it.  On  return- 
ing to  the  house  I mentioned  the  matter  to  Messrs.  Boon 
and  Bivian.  They  smiled  and  said:  “We  understand 

all  that,”  and  they  explained  the  whole  thing  to  me.  One 
of  them  said:  “There  will  be  some  fun  to-day,”  and 

the  other  replied:  “Yes,  a little  hemp-pulling.” 

“Yes,”  responded  the  other,  “that  is  what  I meant.” 
And  then — in  our  western  vernacular — I “tumbled  to  the 
racket.  ” 

By  the  time  we  had  breakfast  over  people  were  be- 
ginning to  come  in  to  trade,  and  happening  to  look  down 
the  street  I saw  forty  or  hfty  men  all  well  armed  come 


MAKING  ARRESTS. 


389 


marching  up  the  street  in  the  direction  of  the  store. 
They  marched  up  to  a large  gambling  house,  called  the 
Shades.  There  they  halted  while  some  of  them  went  in 
and  returned,  bringing  with  them  a man  by  the  name  of 
Jack  Gallagher. 

There  was  a log  cabin  immediately  across  the  street 
with  a fireplace  in  it,  and  to  this  house  they  marched 
Gallagher  and  put  him  inside. 

Leaving  a strong  guard  around  the  cabin,  the  balance 
of  them  start-  _ 

& 


ed  out  as  if 
hunting  some 
one  else.  In 
a short  time 
they  came 
marching  an- 
other man  to 
the  cabin  by 
the  name  of 
Boone  Helm, 

who  had  one  "" ' ""r; 

hand  tied  up.  It  seemed  to 
comfort  Gallagher  to  know 
that  he  was  going  to  have 
company  on  the  long  trip  by 
the  short  route,  and  “mis- 
ery likes  company.” 

The  third  man  was 
brought  in  a few  minutes 
later  whose  name  was  Hank  Parrish,  the  fourth  and  last 
that  day  being  Clubfoot  George. 


I could  see  sentinels  walking 
to  and  fro. 


P&VK  ITANG&E. 


19® 

They  were  all  placed  in  the  log  cabin  under  a strong 
guard. 

About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  the  crowd  reas- 
sembled at  the  cabin  jail,  took  the  prisoners  out,  and 
marched  them  up  the  street.  Mr.  Boone  and  I walked 
down  the  street  by  the  side  of  the  crowd,  and  after  they 
had  gone  one  block,  for  some  reason  they  came  to  a halt, 
when  Boone  Helm  sang  out  in  the  most  profane  language 
he  could  have  uttered,  saying:  4 ‘Hang  me  if  you  intend 

to,  or  I will  have  to  go  and  warm  my  sore  hand.” 

They  marched  on  up  the  street  to  where  there  was  a 
new  log  house  that  had  been  recently  built  and  not  yet 
covered.  That  had  been  prepared  for  this  neck-tie  party 
by  placing  four  dry  goods  boxes  in  a row  in  the  house* 
The  four  men  were  led  in  and  placed  on  the  boxes  and  a 
rope  placed  around  each  of  their  necks  thrown  over  a 
joist  above  and  made  fast  to  a sleeper  below. 

While  they  were  tying  the  rope  around  Jack  Galla- 
gher’s neck — his  hands  already  having  been  tied  behind 
him — a perfect  stream  of  oaths  was  pouring  fro?o  bis  lips, 
and  about  the  last  words  he  uttered  were:  “£  hope  to 

meet  you  all  in  the  bottomest  pits  of  hell.  ” These  words 
were  uttered  not  more  than  a minute  before  the  box  was 
kicked  from  under  him. 

After  this  little  hanging-bee  everything  was  quiet 
until  near  spring,  when  there  came  to  town  a man  by  the 
name  of  Slade,  who  was  full  of  noisy  whiskey,  and  started 
in  to  paint  the  town  red.  This  man  was  the  same  Slade 
that  used  to  be  stage  agent  on  the  Overlaud  road.  He 
was  also  the  same  man  that  in  the  year  *852  cut  an  old 
man’s  ears  off  while  he  was  tied  to  a snubbing  post  in  a 


$§1 

horse  corrall,  where  he  had  been  taken  by  the  cowardly 
curs  that  were  at  that  time  in  the  employ  of  Slade  sim- 
ply because  he,  Jule,  would  not  vacate  the  ranch  where 
Julesburg  was  afterward  established.  After  severing  both 
ears  from  his  head  they  shot  him  down  like  a dog  while 
he  was  tied  and  helpless. 

While  in  Virginia  City  this  time  Slade  made  threats 
against  several  people,  and  during  his  spree  did  some- 
thing, I never  knew  just  what,  and  a warrant  was  sworn 
out  and  placed  in  the  hands  of  a marshal  for  his  arrest. 
The  marshal  found  him  in  a gambling  house,  and  in  some 
way  managed  to  get  him  into  the  court-room  before  he 
suspected  anything,  not  reading  the  warrant  to  him  until 
they  were  in  the  court-room. 

When  informed  that  he  was  under  arrest,  Slade  did 
not  wait  to  hear  the  warrant  read,  but  jerked  it  from  the 
hands  of  the  officer,  tore  it  in  two,  wadded  it  up  in  his 
hands  and  threw  it  on  the  floor  and  stamped  on  it  with 
his  foot.  Then  he  turned  and  walked  out,  and  was  in 
no  wise  backward  in  telling  the  officer,  as  well  as  the 
judge  of  the  court,  what  his  opinion  was  of  such  pro- 
ceedings. 

About  the  middle  of  that  afternoon  the  Vigilantes, 
some  twenty  in  number,  came  to  where  Slade  was  stand- 
ing, took  him  in  charge,  and  marched  him  off  up  the 
street.  I happened  to  be  standing  near  when  they  took 
him  in  tow  and  followed  close  in  the  rear  while  they  were 
marching  him  off  to  the  place  of  execution.  I don’t 
think  that  he  drew  three  breaths  during  that  time  but 
what  he  was  pleading  for  his  life. 

He  told  them  after  he  was  on  the  dry  goods  box  that 


39* 


THE  LAST  OF  SLADE. 


if  they  would  release  him  he  would  leave  the  United 
States  just  as  soon  as  he  could  get  away.  I have  seen 
men  die  in  various  ways,  but  I never  saw  a man  die  as 
cowardly  as  this  man  Slade.  When  he  found  they  were 
determined  he  begged  and  plead  for  them  to  let  him  live 
until  he  could  see  his  wife;  he  said  it  was  for  a business 
affair.  They  did  not  wait  for  anything,  but  as  soon  as 
they  were  ready  they  kicked  the  box  from  under  him, 
thus  ending  the  life  of  another  of  the  worst  men  that 
ever  lived. 

The  awful  life  of  this  man  is  another  story  that  would 
be  too  long  to  give  here. 

It  seemed  as  though  as  soon  as  the  arrest  was  made 
some  of  Slade’s  friends  had  started  to  inform  his  wife, 
from  the  fact  that  just  as  they  were  carrying  the  body 
from  the  gallows  to  the  hotel  she  was  seen  coming  across 
the  hill  as  fast  as  her  horse  could  carry  her.  I was  told 
afterward  that  had  she  only  got  there  before  the  hanging 
took  place  he  never  would  have  hanged,  for  parties  that 
knew  her  said  that  before  she  would  have  seen  him 
hanged  she  would  have  shot  him  herself.  I was  stand- 
ing in  the  hotel  where  the  body  lay  when  she  came  in. 
She  stood  silently  looking  at  the  corpse  for  a few  min- 
utes, and  then  turning  to  the  crowd  that  was  standing 
around,  said:  “Will  some  one  tell  me  who  did  this?” 

No  one  answering  her,  she  repeated  the  question,  and 
finally  the  third  time  she  repeated  the  question  at  the 
top  of  her  voice.  At  this  I turned  and  walked  out,  and 
that  was  the  last  time  I ever  saw  her.  This  was  the  last 
hanging  we  had  that  winter  and  spring. 


LOST  MY  HORSES. 


393 


In  the  latter  days  of  April  Messrs.  Boone  and  Bivian 
employed  me  to  cross  the  mountains  and  take  letters  to 
the  wagon-master,  and  also  to  assist  him  in  crossing  the 
Rockies,  so  taking  one  pair  of  blankets,  ten  days’  pro- 
visions and  a pair  of  snow  shoes  on  my  back  I started 
afoot  and  alone  across  the  mountains.  The  fourth  day 
after  leaving  Virginia  City  I came  to  the  foot  of  the  main 
divide,  and  up  to  this  time  I did  not  have  to  use  my 
snow  shoes,  Where  I camped  that  night  the  snow  was 
two  feet  deep,  and  the  next  morning  there  was  a crust 
on  it  strong  enough  to  bear  me  up  until  I went  six  or 
seven  miles  farther  on,  when  I commenced  to  break 
through. 

Then  I put  on  my  snow-shoes,  and  in  a short  time  I 
was  at  the  summit  of  the  mountain.  After  reaching  the 
top,  the  country  being  open  and  all  down  hill,  I had  fine 
traveling  while  the  snow  lasted,  making  a distance  of 
about  forty  miles  that  day.  Then  I abandoned  my  snow- 
shoes,  and  in  two  days  more  I was  in  camp  on  the  river 
bottom  where  the  stock  had  been  wintered. 

The  wagon-master  informed  me  that  he  had  lost 
about  one-third  of  the  oxen,  which  had  stampeded  and 
ran  off  in  a storm;  also  my  two  saddle  horses,  and  his 
one  and  only  saddle  horse  had  gone  with  the  cattle.  He 
said  they  had  been  gone  about  six  weeks,  so  I struck  out 
to  Fort  Hall  to  try  and  buy  a horse  to  ride  to  'hunt  up 
the  lost  stock. 

I succeeded  in  buying  a very  poor  excuse  of  a horse 
for  a hundred  dollars,  that  under  any  other  circumstances 
I would  not  have  accepted  as  a gracious  gift.  But  it 


394 


I FIND  THE  STOCK. 


was  “Hopkins'  choice,"  that  or  none.  Mounting  my 
crow-bait,  I struck  out  in  a westerly  direction  to  look  for 
the  stock. 

Three  days’ 
ride  from  the 
fort  I struck 
plenty  of  cat- 
tle sign.  They 
were  apparent- 
ly heading  for 
Wood  river, 
and  after  fol- 
lowing their 
trail  about  two 
miles,  I discov- 
ered two  horse 
tracks,  which 
convinced  me 
it  was  the  stock 
I was  looking 
for.  The  next 
morning  I found  them  and  the  cattle  were  all  there  with 
the  exception  of  three.  One  of  my  horses  was  there, 
but  the  other  one  was  missing;  the  wagon-master’s 
horse  was  also  there.  I succeeded  in  catchingmy  horse 
and  turned  loose  the  one  I had  bought  and  left  him 
there  for  wolf-bait,  provided  they  would  eat  him,  mounted 
my  saddle  horse,  and  turned  the  stock  in  the  direction 
of  camp.  It  took  me  five  days  to  drive  them  to  our 
camp  on  the  river,  making  ten  days  in  all  since  I had 
started  out.  We  stayed  there  three  weeks  longer,  and 


1 d scovered  two  horse  tracks. 


THE  TRAIN  ARRIVES. 


395 


the  grass  being  good,  by  that  time  the  stock  was  look- 
ing well. 

All  this  time  we  were  expecting  a Mormon  train  on 
the  other  side  would  cross  over  and  break  the  road  as 
they  were  not  loaded,  but  not  seeing  any  sign  of  them, 
the  wagon-boss  got  tired  of  waiting,  and  hitching  up, 
pulled  about  twenty  miles  to  the  edge  of  the  snow. 

We  were  two  days  making  this  twenty  miles.  Here 
we  stopped,  but  the  wagon-master  and  I started  next 
morning  on  foot  for  the  summit.  While  we  were  on  the 
mountain  we  could  hear  the  other  train  coming  so  we 
walked  on  to  meet  it  and  see  if  we  could  assist  them  in 
any  way.  They  were  taking  a very  wise  plan  for  it;  two 
men  riding  ahead  on  horseback,  others  were  driving 
about  forty  head  of  loose  stock  behind  them,  all  followed 
by  the  wagons. 

They  got  to  our  camp  that  night  about  dark.  This 
train  broke  the  road  in  good  shape  for  us,  and  the  fol- 
lowing morning  the  boss  put  all  of  the  oxen  to  half  the 
wagons  and  pulled  across.  It  took  us  nearly  all  day  to 
get  out  of  the  snow  on  the  other  side,  thereby  taking  us 
three  days  to  cross  the  mountains. 

I traveled  with  the  train  three  days  after  crossing  the 
mountains,  and  then  I left  and  rode  on  to  Virginia  City, 
knowing  that  Boone  and  Bivian  would  be  anxious  for 
information. 

This  was  the  first  train  of  the  season,  and  when  it 
arrived  flour  was  worth  one  dollar  per  pound,  bacon  fifty 
cents,  and  everything  else  in  proportion. 


396 


START  FOR  SALT  LAKE. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


Twenty-two  thousand  dollars  in  gold  dust. — A 

STAGE  ROBBERY. ANOTHER  TRIP  TO  CALIFORNIA. — 

Meeting  with  Gen.  Crook. — Chief  of  scouts 
again. 

After  the  goods  were  unloaded  and  the  stock  rested 
up  for  a few  days,  the  train  was  started  back  to  Salt 
Lake  City  to  load  with  flour  and  bacon.  After  it  had 
been  gone  five  days  Mr.  Boone  and  I started  to  follow  it, 
expecting  to  get  to  the  Mormon  city  ahead  of  the  train 
and  have  the  cargo  purchased  by  the  time  it  would 
arrive. 

Mr.  Boone  took  with  him  on  this  trip  twenty-two 
thousand  dollars  in  gold  dust,  on  pack-horses.  But  in 
order  to  get  away  from  Virginia  City  with  it  and  not  be 
suspected,  we  packed  up  three  horses  one  night,  behind 
the  store,  and  I started  that  night  with  a pick  and  shovel 
tied  to  each  pack,  as  if  I were  going  prospecting.  I went 
to  where  I thought  would  make  a good  day’s  ride  for 
Boone,  and  camped.  He  overtook  me  the  next  night, 
and  he  said  he  would  not  have  had  it  known  how  much 
dust  he  had  with  him  for  three  times  that  amount. 

We  made  the  trip  to  Salt  Lake  all  right,  however, 
but  in  a few  days  after  we  learned  that  the  stage-coach 
that  left  Virginia  City  at  the  same  time  we  did  was 


397 


STAGE  ROBBERY. 


robbed  and  every  passenger  killed.  These  passengers 
were  seven  successful  miners  that  had  made  all  the  money 
they  wanted,  or  rather  what  they  considered  a handsome 
little  stake,  there  being  eighty  thousand  dollars  in  the 
crowd,  and  they  were  on  their  way  home  somewhere  in 
the  East. 

The  driver  was  the  only  one  that  escaped,  he  claim- 
ing to  have  jumped  off  from  the  stage.  I saw  the  stage 
when  it  came  into  Salt  Lake  City,  and  it  was  riddled 
with  bullets  and  blood  spattered  all  over  the  inside  of 
the  coach. 

There  was  a man  by  the  name  of  Brown  driving  the 
stage  at  that  time,  and  many  people  believed,  in  fact  it 
was  the  general  impression  at  the  time,  that  the  driver 
was  in  with  the  robbers.  This  robbery  and  massacre 
occurred  in  what  is  known  as  Beaver  canyon. 

During  my  stay  at  Salt  Lake  there  came  in  from  Vir- 
ginia City  a young  man  by  the  name  of  Richard  Hyde, 
to  buy  cattle.  Mr.  Boone  recommended  him  to  me  as 
being  a fine  young  man  and  very  shrewd  for  his  age.  After 
having  some  little  acquaintance  with  him  and  he  had 
told  me  his  business,  also  what  profit  there  was  in  it,  he 
and  I formed  a co-partnership  for  the  purpose  of  buying 
cattle  and  driving  them  to  Virginia  City.  We  bought 
one  hundred  and  ninety-two  head  of  all  sizes,  and  by  the 
help  of  two  other  men,  we  drove  them  through,  losing 
only  five  head,  which  was  considered  excellent  luck. 

We  stopped  about  ten  miles  below  town,  and  after 
setting  a price  on  our  cattle,  I remained  with  them  while 
Mr.  Hyde  went  t p look  for  buyers.  He  was  gone  nearly 
a week,  and  when  he  returned  he  had  sold  nearly  all  the 


398 


to  California. 


cattle.  We  were  well  pleased  with  the  result  of  our 
venture,  and  I am  told  Mr.  Hyde  kept  the  business  up 
for  several  years  until  he  made  an  independent  fortune, 
and  1 am  told,  at  this  writing — 1899 — that  he  is  some- 
where in  Iowa  doing  a large  banking  business. 

As  soon  as  the  cattle  were  all  delivered  and  we  had 
settled  up,  Mr,  Hyde  and  I struck  back  for  Salt  Lake 
City,  he  to  buy  more  cattle,  and  I on  my  way  to  Cali- 
fornia. 

Near  Ogden  I fell  in  with  an  emigrant  train  of  twen- 
ty-two wagons  bound  for  California.  As  soon  as  they 
learned  who  I was,  having  heard  of  me  back  at  Fort 
Kearney,  they  insisted  on  my  traveling  in  company  with 
them,  and  there  being  some  fine  looking  young  ladies  in 
the  train,  I accepted  the  invitation  and  joined  them. 

These  families  were  from  Illinois  and  Ohio,  and  I can 
truthfully  say  that  I never  traveled  with  or  saw  a finer 
crowd  of  people  than  these  were,  and  I never  was  in  a 
company  that  I regretted  leaving  as  I did  those  people, 
for  they  all  seemed  more  like  brothers  and  sisters  to  me 
than  strangers. 

The  majority  of  them  bought  small  farms  in  Solano 
county,  California,  and  settled  down.  I remained  with 
them  until  after  the  holidays,  then  left  and  struck  out 
for  San  Francisco.  This  was  the  beginning  of  the 
year  1865. 

After  remaining  in  the  city  a few  days  I concluded 
one  day  to  take  a ride  out  to  the  fort  and  see  if  any  of 
my  acquaintances  were  there.  I only  found  one  person 
that  I had  been  acquainted  with  before,  and  that  was 
Capt,  Miller.  He  showed  me  a number  of  letters  frocx 


Meet  George  Jones. 


399 


his  brother  officers  out  in  Arizona,  all  saying  they  were 
having  a great  deal  of  trouble  with  the  Indians  in  that 
country.  I returned  to  the  city,  bought  two  more  horses 
and  commenced  making  preparations  to  go  to  Fort  Yuma 
by  way  of  Los  Angeles. 

The  day  before  I was  to  start  I was  walking  down 
Sampson  street  near  the  American  Exchange  Hotel, 
where  I was  stopping  while  in  the  city,  when  I heard  a 
voice  across  the  street  that  sounded  familiar,  say,  “Hello 
chief.”  I looked  around  and  who  should  I see  but  George 
Jones,  who  was  then  coming  on  a run  to  me;  and  you 
can  rest  assured  that  I was  glad  to  see  him,  as  it  had 
been  nine  years  since  I had  met  him.  He  told  me  of  his 
trip  back  to  Fort  Klamath  the  time  that  he  accompanied 
me  to  San  Francisco  and  returned  with  the  mail;  of  the 
hardships  that  he  underwent  on  his  way  back,  and  also 
his  various  speculations  after  leaving  the  service  and  said 
that  it  seemed  that  everything  he  turned  his  hand  to 
went  against  him. 

I told  him  my  intention  was  to  go  to  Arizona  and  secure 
a position  as  scout,  and  he  at  once  made  up  his  mind  to 
go  with  me,  and  it  is  useless  to  say  that  I was  well 
pleased  with  his  decision  from  the  fact  that  when  he  was 
with  me  I always  knew  just  what  to  depend  on. 

It  was  in  the  fore  part  of  February  when  we  started 
on  this  long  and  tedious  trip,  and  we  made  up  our  minds 
to  take  our  time  to  it.  From  here  we  went  to  Los  An- 
geles, and  there  we  stayed  four  days  to  let  our  horses 
rest,  and  while  there  we  lived  principally  on  fruit. 

From  Los  Angeles  to  Fort  Yuma  it  is  called  five  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  way  it  is 


400 


Fort  Yuma. 


over  a desert  country.  From  Los  Angeles  we  struck 
across  the  Mojave  desert,  crossing  the  extreme  south  end 
of  Death  Valley  to  avoid  the  sand  desert,  and  made  our 
way  to  the  Colorado  river  without  any  mishap,  but  some- 
times having  to  ride  as  much  as  forty  miles  without  water 
for  our  horses. 

When  we  struck  the  river  we  traveled  down  on  the 
north  side  until  just  below  the  mouth  of  the  Gila  we 
crossed  the  Colorado,  where  Jim  Beckwith  and  I had 
crossed  a number  of  years  before.  We  had  not  gone  far 
after  crossing  the  Colorado  when  we  came  to  the  Yuma 
Indians,  spoken  of  before  as  not  wearing  any  clothing. 
Here  George  Jones  declared  that  he  had  gone  far  enough, 
saying  he  had  found  a place  that  he  had  been  looking  for 
for  a long  time  where  people  did  not  have  to  wear  cloth- 
ing nor  till  the  soil  for  a living.  And  he  added:  “This 

is  good  enough  for  me.” 

The  next  day  at  noon  after  crossing  the  river  we 
reached  Fort  Yuma.  We  rode  up  to  the  guard  and  asked 
if  Lieut.  Jackson  was  stationed  at  this  fort.  The  guard 
replied  that  he  was,  and  directed  me  to  his  quarters.  I 
walked  up  to  his  door  and  rapped.  He  came  to  the  door, 
but  did  not  recognize  me  as  my  hair  had  grown  out  long 
and  my  beard  was  all  over  my  face,  but  in  his  usual 
kindly  way  he  asked  what  he  could  do  for  us.  I asked 
him  if  my  friend  and  I could  get  our  dinner. 

By  this  time  his  wife  had  recognized  my  voice  and 
came  to  the  door,  and  as  she  was  approaching  him  he 
asked  if  she  could  let  those  two  gentlemen  have  their 
dinner. 

“Why,  Lieutenant,  don’t  you  know  who  that  is  you 


meet  Gen.  Crook. 


401 


are  talking  to?”  she  said.  4 ‘I  do  not,”  he  replied.  “Why,” 
said  she,  “that  is  the  boy  scout.” 

It  is  useless  to  say  that  we  were  taken  in  to  dinner 
and  our  horses  taken  care  of,  and  while  at  the  dinner 
table  I told  the  Lieutenant  our  business  there.  I told 
him  that  I had  come  there  with  the  intention  of  get- 
ting a position  as  chief  of  scouts,  and  that  I would  not 
accept  a position  unless  my  friend  Mr.  Jones  could  get  a 
place  with  me.  He  told  me  that  he  had  no  doubt  but 
that  we  would  both  be  able  to  get  a position,  as  they  had 
lost  five  scouts  inside  of  the  last  month. 

After  dinner  Lieut.  Jackson  excused  himself,  and  tell- 
ing us  to  remain  at  his  quarters  until  he  returned,  he 
took  a walk  to  the  General’s  quarters.  He  returned  in 
about  an  hour,  saying  Gen.  Crook  wished  to  see  us  both 
at  once  at  his  quarters,  and*  we,  in  company  with  the 
Lieutenant,  walked  over  to  the  General’s  tent,  and  to  my 
astonishment,  I was  introduced  as  Capt.  Drannan. 

The  General’s  orderly  and  the  officer  of  the  day  were 
both  in  his  room  and  he  told  them  he  wished  to  speak 
to  us  on  private  business,  and  they  at  once  withdrew. 
Then  the  General  commenced  to  question  me  in  regard 
to  fighting  Indians,  and  I did  nothing  for  the  next  two 
hours  but  answer  questions. 

Like  all  other  successful  officers,  he  did  not  want  any 
dead-heads  around  him,  and  I presume  that  is  why  Gen. 
Crook  was  such  a successful  Indian  fighter. 

He  requested  us  to  call  at  his  quarters  at  nine  o’clock 
the  next  morning,  after  which  he  called  his  orderly  and 
told  him  to  show  us  quarters  for  the  night  and  also  to 
care  for  our  horses.  That  evening  while  George  was 


402 


LOOKING  FOR  JOBS. 


away  looking  after  our  horses  I was  taking  a stroll 
around  the  fort,  when  by  chance  I met  Gen.  Crook  tak- 
ing his  evening  walk,  and  he  asked  me  what  I knew 
about  this  friend  of  mine.  I told  how  I had  seen  him 
tried  on  various  occasions  and  that  I had  never  seen  any 
signs  of  his  weakening  yet.  I also  told  him  that  if  I ac- 
cepted a position  as  scout,  I wanted  George  Jones  with 

me,  for  I knew 
that  I could 
depend  on  him 
under  any  and 
all  c i r c u in- 
stances. The 
General  told 
m e that  h e 
had  been  hav- 
ing very  hard 
luck  this  sum- 
mer,  having 
lost  all  his  best 
scouts  by  their 
falling  in  the 
hands  of  the 
Apaches.  He 
also  told  me 
that  he  had 
one  scout  that 
fell  into  their 
h a n ds  and 

was  burned  at  the  stake,  The  next  morning  at  nine 
o’clock  Jones  and  I were  on  hand  at  the  General’s  quar- 


I met  Gen.  Crook  taking  his  evening  walk. 


ENGAGED  AS  SCOUTS. 


403 


ters.  The  first  question  he  asked  me  was  on  what  con- 
ditions I wished  to  go  to  work  and  what  I expected  per 
month.  I told  him  that  heretofore  what  scouting  I had 
done  I had  gone  as  an  independent  scout,  and  that  I 
would  go  to  work  under  no  other  conditions. 

He  asked  me  what  I meant  by  an  independent  scout. 

I said  I meant  so  much  per  month,  rations  for  myself 
and  horse,  and  all  horses  I captured  from  the  Indians  to 
be  my  own.  If  I don’t  suit  you,  you  can  tell  me  so  and 
I will  quit,  and  when  you  don’t  suit  me  I will  call  for  my 
money  and  quit  at  once. 

He  said  that  was  fair  enough,  but  I told  him  that  I 
would  not  go  to  work  under  any  consideration  unless  my 
friend  Mr.  Jones  could  have  employment  too. 

I hired  to  Gen.  Crook  for  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  dollars  per  month,  to  go  to  work  the  following  morn- 
ing. After  the  bargain  was  made  the  General  said  to 
me:  “You  must  bear  in  mind  that  you  are  in  a different 

country  now  to  what  you  have  been  accustomed  to  work- 
ing in,  and  altogether  a different  climate  as  well.”  He 
proposed  sending  a man  with  me  that  he  said  was  thor- 
oughly posted  in  the  country,  knowing  every  watering 
place,  as  well  as  the  different  runways  of  the  Indians  in 
the  whole,  country,  and  he  added  that  he  would  not  ex- 
pect any  benefit  from  us  for  at  least  ten  days,  as  it  would 
take  this  man  that  length  of  time  to  show  us  over  the 
country. 

At  this  I withdrew  from  the  General’s  quarters,  and 
he  and  George  soon  made  a bargain.  George  was  to 
receive  seventy-five  dollars  per  month.  The  balance 


404 


READY  TO  START. 


of  the  day  was  spent  in  making  preparations  for  our 
prospecting  tour,  as  we  termed  it. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


Find  some  murdered  emigrants. — We  bury  the 

DEAD  AND  FOLLOW  AND  SCALP  THE  INDIANS. GEN. 

Crook  is  pleased  with  the  outcome. — A Mohave 

BLANKET. 


The  following  morning  I ordered  ten  days’  rations  for 
three  of  us.  When  we  were  ready  to  start  Gen.  Crook 
called  me  aside  and  told  me  the  nature  of  the  man  who 
was  to  accompany  us,  saying  that  there  was  not  a water- 
ing place  nor  an  Indian  trail  in  the  whole  territory  that 
he  did  not  know,  and  said  he:  4 ‘If  you  don’t  see  any 

Indians  or  fresh  sign  of  Indians  he  will  show  you  all  over 
the  country.  But  he  is  the  scarriest  man  of  Indians  you 
ever  saw  in  your  life.” 

This  man’s  name  was  Freeman.  When  we  were 
ready  to  start  Freeman  asked  me  what  course  I wished 
to  take.  I told  him  that  I would  like  to  go  in  the  direc- 
tion that  we  would  be  the  most  likely  to  find  Apaches. 
! pointed  in  the  direction  of  a range  of  mountains,  tell- 


TROUBLED  BY  APACHES. 


405 


ing  him  that  by  ascending  them  he  would  be  able  to 
show  me  where  the  different  watering  places  were  in  the 
valley  by  land 
marks,  and  we 
struck  out  south- 
east from  the  fort 
in  the  direction  of 
the  middle  fork  of 
the  Gila  river. 

The  first  night  we 
camped  on  what 
was  then  called 
the  Butterfield 
route,  some  thir- 
ty-five o r forty 
miles  from  the 
fort.  This  season 
there  were  a great 
many  emigrants 
passing  over  this  route  from  Texas  and  Arkansas  to  Cal- 
ifornia, and  Gen.  Crook  said  the  Apaches  were  giving 
them  much  trouble  on  this  part  of  the  road,  and  if  they 
continued  to  be  so  bad  he  would  have  to  send  one  or  two 
companies  of  soldiers  out  there  for  the  protection  of  the 
emigrants.  The  second  morning  out  we  passed  a ranch 
owned  by  a man  named  Davis,  who  had  lived  there  two 
years.  He  told  me  that  the  Apaches  had  never  given 
him  any  trouble  from  the  fact  that  he  had  gotten  the 
good  will  of  the  chief  when  he  first  went  there  by  giving 
him  numerous  little  presents  of  different  kinds. 

He  told  me  that  although  isolated  from  the  world,  he 


Gen.  George  Crook. 


406 


FIND  THREE  DEAD  BODIES. 


was  doing  well,  from  the  fact  that  most  all  of  the  people 
passing  there  patronized  him.  This  family  was  from  In- 
diana. After  I had  told  him  who  I was  and  what  would 
be  my  business,  he  insisted  on  my  staying  over  night 
with  him  when  convenient,  saying  that  it  would  not  cost 
me  a cent.  Thanking  him  for  his  hospitable  offer,  we 
rode  on,  keeping  the  Butterfield  route.  Late  that  after- 
noon we  met  a train  of  sixteen  wagons  on- the  way  to  Cal- 
ifornia. The  people  told  us  that  the  day  before  they 
had  seen  where  five  wagons  had  just  been  burned.  I 
asked  how  far  it  was,  and  they  thought  it  was  twenty-five 
miles  from  where  we  met  them.  When  we  heard  of  this 
we  pushed  on,  thinking  there  might  be  some  dead  bodies 
there  and  that  we  could  bury  them.  On  arriving  at  the 
scene,  sure  enough  we  found  three  dead  bodies  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  yards  from  the  burned  wagons;  one  of 
them  being  that  of  an  old  man,  and  the  others,  two  boys 
twelve  and  fourteen  years  of  age.  The  Indians  had  not 
stripped  the  bodies  nor  mutilated  them,  only  they  were 
all  filled  with  arrows.  The  dead  bodies  were  all  dressed 
in  home-made  jeans.  We  found  a few  pieces  of  wagon 
boxes  that  had  not  been  burned  and  dug  as  good  a grave 
as  we  could  in  the  sand,  giving  them  as  good  a burial  as 
we  could  under  the  circumstances.  This  being  done,  we 
took  the  trail  of  the  Indians,  which  led  off  in  a south- 
westerly direction.  I felt  confident  that  it  had  been  at 
least  three  days  since  this  depredation  had  been  com- 
mitted. My  object  in  following  them  up  was  to  see  if 
we  could  get  any  evidence  of  white  prisoners  in  their 
camp.  For  the  first  ten  or  fifteen  miles  they  kept  on  the 
roughest,  rockiest  ground  they  could  find,  all  of  which 


FOLLOWING  THE  TRAIL. 


407 


led  me  to  believe  they  had  expected  to  be  followed.  The 
next  morning  we  came  to  where  they  had  made  their 
first  camp.  All  the  evidence  we  could  see  of  white  pris- 
oners in  their  charge  was  a few  pieces  of  calico  torn  up 
and  scattered  around  their  camp-ground. 

We  followed 
the  trail  until 
we  came  to 
where  they  had 

< ft- 

made  their  sec- 
ond  camp,  and 
here  we  found 


•A 

th  e waists 
of  two 
w o m e n’s 
dresses,  one 
being  some- 
what larger 
t h a n the 
other.  The 

two  dress  waists  we  took  along  with  us.  Here  the  In- 
dians had  changed  their  course  somewhat,  and  our  guide 


One  of  the  bodies  being  that  of  an  old  man. 


408 


saw  six  Indians. 


said  in  the  direction  of  their  main  village,  but  I did  not 
consider  myself  well  enough  posted  to  go  too  near  their 
main  village.  I told  the  guard  to  lead  us  off  south  of 
west  from  Fort  Yuma,  which  he  did,  and  late  that  after- 
noon we  saw  six  Indians  traveling  east,  and  I told  the 
boys  that  they  were  scouts  for  the  main  band  and  that 
they  were  going  out  to  look  for  emigrants.  When  we 
first  got  sight  of  them  they  were  traveling  up  an  open 
valley.  I told  the  boys  that  we  would  keep  a close 
watch  of  them,  and  if  they  should  camp  alone  we  would 
have  their  scalps  before  morning;  but  just  one  look  from 
Freeman  and  I was  convinced  that  he  did’ not  approve  of 
this  scheme.  George  said  to  him:  “You  can  take  care 

of  the  horses  can’t  you,  and  if  everything  is  favorable, 
Cap  and  I can  take  care  of  the  Indians.”  Late  in  the 
afternoon  I told  them  what  course  to  travel,  and  taking 
advantage  of  the  ground,  I pushed  on  to  see  the  Indians 
go  into  camp.  When  I started  the  guide  told  me  there 
was  water  about  a mile  above  where  the  Indians  were, 
and  that  they  were  pulling  for  it.  He  said  there  was  a 
fine  spring  of  water  in  a little  bunch  of  timber,  and  that 
the  Indians  always  camped  there  when  they  were  going 
to  and  from  their  hunting  ground.  Sure  enough,  when 
they  came  to  this  little  grove  they  all  dismounted  and 
turned  their  horses  loose  entirely,  then  commenced  to 
roast  their  antelope  meat  for  supper.  I hurried  back  to 
meet  my  companions,  and  we  succeeded  in  getting  within 
a quarter  of  a mile  of  the  Indians.  By  this  time  it  was 
getting  dark. 

We  picketed  our  horses  and  sat  down  to  eat  our  cold 
lunch,  after  which  we  started  down  to  the  camp,  but 


STOLE  up  on  THEM. 


m 

were  very  cautious  how  we  traveled.  When  in  sight  of 
the  camp-fire  we  could  see  them  all  plainly  sitting  around 
it.  We  lay  silent  and  watched  them  and  their  move- 
ments. In  a few  minutes  two  of  them  got  up  and  went 
out  to  where  their  horses  were  and  drove  them  all  up 
together  to  less  than  one  hundred  yards  of  where  we  lay. 
It  was  so  dark  we  could  not  see  them,  but  could  hear 
them  talking  very  distinctly.  After  having  rounded  their 
hors'es  up  together  they  returned  to  the  fire.  Thinking 
they  would  lie  down  in  a short  time,  for  they  did  not 
seem  to  suspect  any  trouble  that  night,  we  started  to 
crawl  down  to  their  camp,  all  abreast.  After  our  guide, 
Freeman,  found  that  I was  determined  to  attack  them 
he  seemed  to  muster  up  courage  and  come  right  to  the 
front  like  a man.  My  object  in  crawling  near  their  camp 
so  soon  was  to  see  in  just  what  position  they  lay  before 
the  fire  went  out,  and  when  the  last  one  laid  down  we 
were  within  fifty  yards  of  them.  I told  the  boys  we  had 
a soft  thing  of  it,  for  each  of  us  had  two  revolvers  and  a 
good  knife,  and  the  Indians  were  all  lying  close  together 
with  their  feet  towards  the  fire.  I told  them  we  would 
wait  two  hours  as  near  as  we  could  guess  the  time  and 
then  they  would  be  asleep;  that  then  we  would  crawl  up 
and  send  them  to  their  happy  hunting-ground.  After 
waiting  until  we  thought  they  were  asleep  we  crawled 
down  to  their  camp,  again  all  three  abreast,  George  on 
my  right  and  Freeman  on  my  left;  and  so  we  drew  near, 
their  fire  had  not  gone  entirely  out,  and  a little  breeze 
now  and  then  would  cause  it  to  blaze  up  just  enough  so 
that  we  were  able  to  get  their  exact  positions.  I told  the 
boys  to  watch  me  and  when  I raised  to  my  feet  for  both 


4io 


KILLED  SIX. 


to  raise  and  draw  both  revolvers  as  we  would  then  be 
right  at  their  heads,  and  for  each  man  to  stick  the  muz- 
zle of  each  of  his  pistols  to  an  Indian’s  head  and  fire; 
George  to  take  the  two  on  my  right  and  Freeman  the  two 
on  my  left,  and  I to  take  the  two  in  the  middle,  and  after 
firing  each  man  was  to  jump  back  two  jumps,  so  in  case 
one  of  us  should  miss  one  of  his  men  that  we  would  be 
out  of  their  reach,  thereby  enabling  us  to  get  all  of  them 
without  taking  any  chances  ourselves. 

George  said  that  at  the  first  click  of  his  pistol  one  of 
his  men  raised  up  in  a sitting  position,  and  he  only  got 
one  the  first  shot.  Freeman  and  I each’got  our  two  In- 
dians the  first  shot;  but  George  having  both  his  eyes  on 
one,  the  other  rose  to  his  feet.  George  and  I took  two 
shots  each  at  this  other  Indian  before  we  could  get  him 
down.  It  was  mostly  guess  work,  for  it  was  so  dark 
that  we  could  scarcely  see  him. 

As  soon  as  we  were  satisfied  that  we  had  all  of  them 
we  started  out  to  look  for  their  horses,  but  it  was  so 
dark  that  we  could  not  find  them,  so  we  found  our  way 
back  to  where  our  own  horses  were.  Freeman  and  I laid 
down  to  rest,  while  George  got  on  a horse  and  kept  cir- 
cling the  camp  so  as  not  to  let  any  of  the  horses  get  away 
during  the  night.  He  kept  this  up  until  the  morning 
star  arose,  and  seeing  that  all  the  horses  were  there,  laid 
down  to  rest.  As  soon  as  it  was  beginning  to  get  light 
Freeman  and  I arose,  started  a fire,  and  sat  around  until 
after  sun-up,  when  we  got  breakfast,  made  some  coffee 
and  then  called  George,  and  all  enjoyed  a good  square 
meal  once  more. 

After  breakfast  we  scalped  our  Indians  and  found  that 


HOMEWARD  BOUND. 


4IX 


we  had  eight  good  half-breed  horses  and  a number  of 
good  horse-hair  robes.  I asked  our  guide  how  far  we 
were  from  Fort  Yuma 
and  he  said  straight 
through  it  was 
one  hundred  and 
twenty  miles,  but  the 
way  that  we  would 
have  to  go  it  would 
be  at  least  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles. 

I concluded  we  had 
better  pull  out  for  the 
fort  so  Freeman  and 
myself  rode  ahead 
and  George  followed 
up  the  rear,  driving 
the  loose  horses.  We 


Getting  breakfast. 


412 


BACK  TO  THE  FORf. 


did  not  see  any  more  Indian  sign  that  day.  Late  in  the 
evening  I was  riding  along  when  I ran  on  to  a young  an- 
telope.  I shot  him  and  we  had  fresh  meat  for*  supper 
for  the  first  time  since  we  left  the  fort.  The  next  day 
we  crossed  a big  Indian  trail  going  east.  The  trail  looked 
to  be  about  two  days  old,  but  as  our  rations  were  begin- 
ning to  run  short  we  did  not  attempt  to  follow  them,  but 
pushed  on  to  the  fort,  making  as  good  time  as  possible, 
returning  on  the  eleventh  day  trom  the  time  we  started 
out. 

I reported  our  success  to  the  General.  He  was  well 
pleased  with  the  result  of  the  trip,  and  when  I reported 
the  burying  of  the  dead  bodies,  he  thought  we  had  better 
return  to  the  spot,  taking  with  us  some  good  coffins,  and 
give  them  a more  decent  burial,  but  on  consulting  the 
doctor,  concluded  in  that  extraordinarily  hot  climate  it 
would  be  utterly  impossible  to  bury  them  after  so  long  a 
time,  and  the  idea  was  abandoned. 

I showed  the  two  dress  waists  that  I had  found  at  the 
Apache  camp  to  the  General,  also  to  Mrs.  Jackson,  but 
we  never  got  any  information  of  any  white  prisoners  be- 
ing taken  there  at  that  time. 

The  General  was  pleased  to  see  the  Indian  scalps,  as 
he  said  they  were  the  first  scalps  that  had  been  brought 
ln  for  two  months. 

Gen.  Crook  now  made  up  his  mind  at  once  to  send 
Lieut.  Jackson  out  on  the  road  with  two  companies  of 
cavalry,  and  George  Jones  and  myself  were  to  accom- 
pany them  as  scouts. 

When  we  were  ready  to  start  Lieut.  Jackson  asked 


ON  THE  MARCH, 


413 


me  if  I didn’t  want  more  scouts,  but  I told  him  that  I 
thought  we  could  get  along  this  trip  with  what  we  had. 

We  took  the  Butterfield  route 
|j  and  followed  that  road  until  we 
| were  in  the  St.  Louis  moun- 
I tains.  This  seemed  to  be 

at  that 


time,  a 
f a v orite 
part  of 
the  coun- 
try for 
the  Apa- 
ches t o 
c o m m it 
their 
depreda- 
tions up- 
on emi- 
grants. 
We  trav- 
eled very 
slowly  as 

we  had  to  pack  our  entire  outfit  on  burros,  and  our 
saddle  horses  having  to  live  altogether  on  grass,  con- 
sequently we  could  not  hurry.  Early  in  the  morn- 
ing of  the  sixth  day  of  that  trip  George  and  I started 
out  in  advance  of  the  command,  one  to  theright  and 
the  other  to  the  left  of  the  road,  and  if  neither  of  us 
should  see  any  signs  of  Indians  we  were  to  meet  at 


Our  pack  train. 


414 


discover  Indians. 


the  crossing  of  a certain  stream  only  a few  miles  ahead 
of  the  command;  and  in  the  event  of  either  of  us  arriving 
at  the  stream  and  waiting  half  an  hour  and  the  other  did 
not  make  his  appearance,  he  was  to  return  at  once  with 
his  force  of  scouts  to  the  command.  On  arriving  at  the 
appointed  spot  and  finding  that  George  and  his  assist- 
ants were  not  there,  we  waited  until  we  were  convinced 
he  was  not  coming  and  at  once  returned  to  the  command. 

On  our  return  we  learned  that  shortly  after  starting 
out  that  morning  George  had  run  on  to  a big  Indian  trail. 
Supposing  it  to  be  the  same  band  of  Indians  whose  trail 
we  had  crossed  when  returning  from  our  other  trip,  he 
had  reported  to  the  command  at  once,  and  the  trail  be- 
ing fresh,  he,  taking  four  other  men,  had  started  in  pur- 
suit, leaving  word  with  Lieut.  Jackson  for  me  not  to  be 
uneasy  about  him  nor  attempt  to  follow  him,  but  to  re- 
main with  the  command  until  I heard  from  him  again. 

While  Lieut.  Jackson  was  yet  talking  relative  to  the 
matter,  I received  a message  from  George  saying  that  he 
had  the  Indians  located  some  five  miles  from  the  road 
and  wanted  me  to  come  and  look  the  ground  over  before 
the  command  should  start. 

I at  once  mounted,  and  piloted  by  the  man  who  had 
brought  the  message  to  me,  rode  to  where  George  was. 
On  arriving  there  I found  the  Indians  so  situated  that  it 
was  impossible  to  ascertain  the  number  from  the  fact 
that  in  this  extraordinarily  warm  climate  the  Indians  do 
not  use  any  wick-i-ups  or  lodges,  so  that  the  only  method 
by  which  we  could  make  an  estimate  of  their  number 
was  by  counting  the  number  of  fires  they  had  end  calci}- 


GETTING  READY. 


415 


late  each  fire  to  represent  a certain  number  of  Indians, 
this  being  our  method  of  estimating  them  when  in  wick- 
i-ups,  we  reckoned  their  number  to  be  one  hundred  and 
fifty. 

Where  these  Indians  were  camped  it  would  be  utterly 
impossible  to  make  an  attack  without  being  discovered 
long  before  reaching  them,  they  being  in  a large  valley. 

After  a thorough  examination  of  the  camp  and  sur- 
surroundings  by  looking  through  a glass,  we  concluded 
that  the  best  plan  would  be  to  return  to  the  command 
and  have  it  move  up  to  within  two  miles  of  the  Indians 
and  remain  there  until  after  dark,  then  leave  it  to  the 
Lieutenant  whether  he  should  make  the  attack  on  foot 
or  horseback. 

I remained  to  watch  the  movements  of  the  Indians 
and  see  whether  they  were  reinforced  during  the  day  and 
to  report  at  dark,  George  returning  to  the  command. 
The  soldiers  moved  up  that  evening  to  within  two  miles 
of  the  Indian  camp.  I remained  at  my  post  until  it  was 
so  dark  that  I could  not  see  through  my  glasses  any 
longer,  when  I mounted  my  horse  and  rode  to  the  com- 
mand, having  made  no  new  discoveries.  After  explain- 
ing the  situation  as  nearly  as  I could,  the  Lieutenant 
concluded  to  make  the  attack  on  foot  some  time  between 
midnight  and  daylight  the  next  morning,  and  to  attack 
them  from  two  sides  at  the  same  time. 

The  Lieutenant  taking  half  the  men  and  making  the 
long  march,  which  would  be  about  one  and  a half  miles 
farther  than  the  others  would  have  to  march,  leaving  his 
orderly  sergeant  in  charge  of  the  other  half  of  the  com- 


4i  6 


THE  SLAUGHTER. 


mand.  I piloted  the  Lieutenant  and  George  piloted  the 
orderly.  Here  Lieut.  Jackson  invented  some  new  style 
of  signal  to  what  I had  seen  before,  by  taking  a tea  cup 
and  pouring  powder  in  it  and  when  he  was  ready  to  make 
the  charge  he  was  to  set  the  powder  on  fire,  which  would 
make  a flash,  and  in  case  the  orderly  was  ready,  he  was 
to  signal  the  Lieutenant  in  the  same  manner. 

We  made  the  circuit  and  marched  up  to  within  one 
hundred  yards  of  the  Indians,  but  could  not  make  the 
attack  until  near  daylight,  the  Lieutenant  thinking  it 
was  so  dark  that  the  soldiers  were  in  danger  of  killing 
each  other,  which  was  all  perfectly  true. 

When  the  time  arrived  for  the  attack,  which  was  just 
at  daybreak,  the  Lieutenant  gave  his  signal,  which  was 
answered  at  once  by  the  orderly,  and  the  Lieutenant  led 
the  way  by  going  in  advance  of  the  force,  and  I think  it 
was  the  quickest  fight  I ever  saw.  I did  not  count  the 
Indians  that  were  killed  myself,  but  was  told  that  there 
were  between  190  and  200  found  dead  on  the  battlefield. 
They  seemed  to  raise  up  as  fast  as  the  soldiers  would  cut 
them  down,  and  I think  there  were  two  cut  down  with 
the  sabres  where  one  was  shot.  As  soon  as  the  battle 
was  over,  or  when  we  could  not  find  anymore  Indians  to 
kill,  George  and  I got  our  horses  as  quick  as  we  could 
and  went  out  after  our  horses,  but  they  had  taken  fright 
at  the  firing  and  were  scattered  all  over  the  country. 
That  evening  the  Lieutenant  moved  back  to  the  road  at 
the  head  of  a nice  little  valley  where  there  were  plenty 
of  fine  grass  and  good  water,  saying  that  he  would  make 
this  his  headquarters  as  long  as  he  was  out  on  this  road. 

The  Lieutenant  having  five  men  wounded  in  this  en- 


SEE  ELEVEN  INDIANS. 


41 7 


gagement,  he  wanted  some  one  to  carry  a dispatch  to 
headquarters  requesting  the  General  to  forward  an  am- 
bulance, and  George  Jones  being  a light  man  who  could 
stand  the  ride  better  than  any  one  in  the  crowd,  the 
Lieutenant  chose  him  to  make  the  ride.  It  took  us  five 
days  to  come  from  Fort  Yuma,  and  George  took  three 
horses  and  made  the  round  trip  in  seven  and  one-half 
days.  We  remained  here  in  this  camp  something  like 
three  months,  but  did  not  have  another  fight  of  any  con- 
sequence with  the  Indians  during  our  stay  in  this  place. 
The  Apaches  quit  their  work  in  this  portion  of  the  coun- 
try, thus  enabling  the  emigrants  to  pass  unmolested.  In 
about  one  week  after  George  Jones  had  returned  from 
his  trip  to  headquarters,  Lieut.  Jackson,  George  and  my- 
self went  out  around  the  foot  of  the  mountain  on  a 
scouting  tour.  We  were  riding  in  sight  of  each  other, 
when  the  Lieutenant  signalled  us  to  come  to  where  he 
was.  On  arriving  there  he  told  us  to  keep  our  eyes  on  a 
certain  ridge  and  we  would  see  a little  band  of  Indians 
rise  over  the  top  of  the  hill  in  a few  minutes,  saying  he 
had  just  got  sight  of  them  while  crossing  the  ridge  beyond 
but  could  not  tell  just  how  many  there  were. 

We  secreted  ourselves  in  a little  thicket  of  timber 
where  we  would  be  concealed  from  their  view,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  they  hove  in  sight.  We  counted  them  and 
found  that  there  were  eleven  of  them.  Lieut.  Jackson 
said  to  me:  ‘‘Cap,  shall  we  try  them  a whirl  or  not?” 

I said:  “Lieutenant,  I will  leave  that  with  you.  If  you 

feel  like  it  we  will  give  them  a round.”  The  Lieutenant 
said:  “All  right.  I want  to  try  my  mare  anyway  and 

see  if  she  is  any  good  or  not.” 


rm  AfYAest. 


4T§ 

He  was  riding  a mare  of  fine  breeding,  as  black  as  a 
coal  and  as  fleet  an  animal  as  there  was  in  the  whole 
command.  By  this  time  the  Indians  had  crossed  over 
the  ridge  and  were  then  traveling  up  a little  ravine,  and 
by  keeping  ourselves  secreted  they  would  cross  the  ridge 
near  us.  Just  as  they  turned  over  the  ridge  referred  to, 
we  were  to  make  the  charge.  I was  riding  a roan  horse 
that  I had  bought  in  San  Francisco  that  could  run  like  a 
deer,  for  when  in  this  bnsiness  I would  not  ride  a horse 
that  was  not  swift,  but  I never  had  him  in  an  engage- 
ment of  this  kind.  Being  very  hard-mouthed,  I thought 

he  was  liable  to 
run  away  with 
me,  and  I did  not 
know  whether  he 
would  run  in  the 
opposite  direction 
or  after  the  In- 
dians. The  Lieu- 
tenant and  Geo. 
Jones  said  that  if 
he  would  only  ruft 
after  the  Indians 
they  would  follow 
me  up  closely. 

As  soon  as  the 
last  Indian  had 
passed  over  the 
ridge  out  of  sight 
we  made  a charge,  and  that  black  mare  went  like  she  was 
shot  out  of  a cannon.  The.  Indians  were  all  armed  with 


The  Lieutenant  was  riding  a mare  of  fine  breeding. 


xt&U£&. 


4*9 

bow  and  arrows,  but  they  did  net  attempt  to  use  them. 
They  did  not  suspect  anything  wrong  until  they  heard 
the  clatter  of  our  horses'  feet  within  a few  yards  of  them 
and  when  they  turned  to  look  back  we  all  had  our  revol- 
vers ready  and  turned  loose  to  firing  and  yelling,  and  for 
the  next  half  mile  we  had  a lively  race.  I had  thought 
up  to  that  time  that  there  wasn’t  a man  on  the  plains  or 
in  the  Rocky  Mountains  that  could  beat  me  shooting  with 
a pistol  while  on  the  run,  but  I must  confess  that  Lieut. 
Jackson  on  his  black  mare  could  shoot  more  Indians  in 
the  same  length  of  time  than  any  person  I was  ever  out 
with,  and  it'seemed  that  as  fast  as  the  Lieutenant  would 
shoot  one  Indian  down  his  mare  would  turn  and  take 
after  the  next  nearest.  The  Lieutenant  fired  six  shots 
and  killed  five  Indians  and  wounded  the  sixth  one,  while 
riding  at  full  speed,  and  in  this  country  in  places  the  sage 
brush  is  waist  high  to  a man.  In  this  engagement  I got 
four  Indians,  having  to  shoot  one  Indian  three  times  be- 
I got  him  down,  and  George  Jones  killed  three.  Not 
one  of  them  escaped.  Lieut.  Jackson  said  he  could  not 
see  why  it  was  that  they  did  not  offer  to  defend  them- 
selves, when  they  had  four  to  one  to  start  with,  for  the 
Apaches  have  always  been  considered  the  bravest  tribe 
of  Indians  in  the  entire  West,  and  thev  had  been  known 
at  different  time^  *o  ^ght  soldiers  man  to  man.  The  last 
Indian  I killed  was  beyond  doubt  the  best  horseman  I 
had  ever  seen  among  the  Indians,  for  he  was  first  on  one 
side  of  his  horse  and  then  on  the  other.  It  seemed  as 
though  he  could  almost  turn  under  the  horses  belly  while- 
on  the  dead  run,  and  he  would  swing  himself  around 
under  his  breast,  rendering  it  almost  impossible  to  deal 


420 


Navajo  Indians. 


him  a fatal  shot,  for  he  frisked  around  so  fast  that  a per- 
son could  not  get  a bead  on  him. 

We  arrived  at  camp  that  evening  just  at  dark.  Dur- 
ing our  absence  a train  of  emigrants  consisting  of  twenty- 
one  wagons  had  camped  near  our  quarters.  They  wanted 
an  escort  of  twenty  or  twenty-five  men  to  accompany 
them  to  Fort  Yuma,  which  they  were  willing  to  board 
free  of  charge  while  on  the  trip. 

Those  emigrants  were  from  Dallas,  Texas,  and  ap- 
parently well-to-do  people.  On  learning  that  the  Lieu- 
tenant was  out  on  a scouting  tour,  they  prepared  a nice 
supper  for  the  three  of  us.  , The  following  morning  the 
Lieutenant  detailed  twenty  men  in  charge  of  a sergeant, 
to  escort  the  emigrants  to  Fort  Yuma.  George  Jones 
went  along  as  a scout  ard  I remained  with  the  command. 
They  were  ten  days  making  the  trip,  as  the  emigrants 
having  ox  teams,  traveled  slowly.  On  the  return  of  the 
escort  the  Lieutenant  concluded  to  move  some  fifty  miles 
south  on  this  road,  where  we  made  our  headquarters 
while  we  remained  in  this  section  of  country,  being  on  a 
tributary  of  the  Grand  river,  which  runs  down  through 
the  western  part  of  New  Mexico. 

One  day  while  I was  out  on  a scouting  tour  I ran  on 
to  a little  band  of  Navajo  Indians  on  their  way  to  the 
St.  Louis  Mountains  for  a hunt.  They  had  some  blankets 
with  them  of  their  own  manufacture,  and  being  confident 
that  the  Lieutenant  had  never  seen  a blanket  of  that 
kind,  I induced  them  to  go  with  me  to  our  quarters  to 
show  their  blankets  to  the  Lieutenant  and  others  as  well. 
I told  the  Lieutenant  that  he  could  carry  water  in  one  of 
those  all  day  and  it  would  not  leak  through.  We  took 


BACK  AT  THE  FORT. 


421 


one  of  them,  he  taking  two  corners  and  I two,  and  the 
third  man  poured  a bucket  of  water  in  the  center  of  it, 
and  we  carried  it  twenty  rods  and  the  water  did  not  leak 
through  it.  The  Lieutenant  asked  how  long  it  took  to 
make  one  of  them,  and  the  Indian  said  it  took  about  six 
months.  He  bought  a blanket  for  five  dollars,  being 
about  all  the  silver  dollars  in  the  command.  The  blanket 
had  a horse  worked  in  each  corner,  of  various  colors, 
also  a man  in  the  center  with  a spear  in  his  hand.  How 
this  could  be  done  was  a mystery  to  all  of  us,  as  it  con- 
tained many  colors  and  showed  identically  the  same  on 
both  sides. 

By  this  time  our  three  months’  supply  was  running 
short,  and  Lieut.  Jackson  commenced  making  prepara- 
tions to  return  to  headquarters  with  his  entire  command. 
We  pulled  out  for  the  fort,  and  did  not  see  an  Indian  or 
even  a fresh  track  on  our  way. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  fort  and  Lieut.  Jackson  made 
his  report  Gen.  Crook  was  more  than  pleased  with  the 
success  we  had  met,  and  I succeeded  in  getting  George’s 
wages  raised  from  seventy-five  to  one  hundred  dollars  per 
month,  unbeknown  to  him. 

It  was  now  in  the  fall  of  the  year,  and  the  General 
decided  to  send  us  back  again  with  two  companies  of 
cavalry  and  one  company  of  infantry,  calculated  more 
for  camp  and  guard  duty  than  for  actual  service. 

After  we  had  rested  up  a month  or  such  a matter  the 
General  had  six  or  eight  mule  teams  rigged  up,  also  fifty 
burros  for  pack  animals,  and  started  Lieut.  Jackson  back 
again  with  three  hundred  soldiers. 


422 


WE  START  AGAIN. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


A WICKED  LITTLE  BATTLE. CAPTURE  OF  ONE  HUNDRED 

AND  EIGHTY~TWO  HORSES. DISCOVERY  OF  BLACK 

Canyon. — Fort  Yuma  and  the  pay  master. 


We  traveled  very  slowly  and  cautiously,  and  at  the 
foot  of  the  mountains,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from 
Fort  Yuma,  we  met  a freight  train  from  Santa  Fe  loaded 
with  flour  and  bacon,  principally,  bound  for  Tombstone, 
Arizona.  This  train  was  owned  by  a man  named 
Pritchett;  but  he  was  generally  known  as  “Nick  in  the 
Woods.”  His  party  had  had  a fight  with  the  Indians  in 
the  mountains  the  third  day  before  we  met  him,  and  he 
had  lost  several  mules  killed  and  two  of  his  teamsters  were 
wounded.  He  informed  us  that  the  mountains  were 
swarming  with  Indians,  so  the  Lieutenant  sent  one  com- 
pany ahead  of  the  command,  George  Jones  and  I going 
as  scouts. 

The  advance  company  was  under  command  of  an 
orderly  sergeant,  who  was  instructed  that  if  we  met  no 
Indians  before  reaching  our  old  quarters  we  were  to  stay 
there  until  the  command  came  up.  On  the  third  even- 
ing, just  as  our  company  was  going  into  camp,  and  Jones 
and  I were  taking  a survey  from  the  hill  near  by,  we  saw 
a band  of  Indians  coming  leisurely  along  and  evidently 
bound  for  the  same  camp  ground  that  the  soldiers  were. 


A WICKED  FIGHT. 


423 


Jones  hurried  down  to  inform  the  sergeant  of  the  situa- 
tion, I tarrying  long  enough  to  become  positively  con- 
vinced that  the  reds  might  get  their  camp  fixings  mixed 
with  ours.  So  I put  spurs  to  my  horse  and  rode  down  to 
camp  as  quickly  as  I could.  During  this  time  the  ser- 
geant was  flying  around  like  a chicken  with  his  head  cut 
off  to  have  his  company  ready  to  meet  the  Indians,  and 
he  barely  had  time  to  get  his  men  all  mounted  when  the 
reds  came  in  sight,  not  forty  rods  away.  George  and  I 
had  ridden  our  horses  very  hard  all  day,  consequently 
took  no  hand  in  this  engagement,  but  rode  to  the  top  of 
a little  hill  close  by  where  we  could  see  the  whole  affair. 

In  this  fight  the  Apaches  showed  their  blood  by  stand- 
ing their  ground  better  than  any  Indians  I have  ever 
seen  in  a battle.  They  did  not  offer  to  retreat  until 
the  soldiers  were  right  up  among  them,  there  being  some 
sixty  Indians  and  one  hundred  soldiers. 

This  was  beyond  doubt  the  wickedest  little  battle  I 
had  ever  witnessed,  but  it  did  not  last  long.  In  the  en- 
gagement three  soldiers  were  killed  and  five  wounded, 
and  nine  horses  killed  and  nine  wounded.  There  were 
twenty-seven  good  Indians  left  on  the  battle-field,  and 
none  of  the  Indian  horses  were  captured.  Those  that 
the  Indians  did  not  drive  away  took  fight  and  ran  after 
them. 

The  soldiers  followed  until  after  dark,  but  did  not 
find  any  more  dead  Indians.  We  remained  in  this  camp 
until  the  Lieutenant  came  up  with  his  command.  He 
regretted  that  he  did  not  come  on  himself  ahead  of  the 
command,  thinking  that  had  he  been  there  the  result 
would  have  been  quite  different. 


434 


more  Indians. 


On  his  arrival  he  made  a detail  of  eight  men  to  assist 
in  scouting,  informing  them  that  they  were  relieved  of 
all  guard  duties  while  serving  in  that  capacity,  which  is 
a great  relief  to  a soldier,  especially  when  in  an  Indian 
country.  I was  appointed  captain  or  chief  of  scouts  and 
George  my  first  assistant.  The  Lieutenant  selected  what 
he  thought  to  be  the  best  men  he  had  in  his  command 
and  they  afterwards  proved  themselves  to  be  just  what 
he  had  expected.  On  starting  out  I did  not  make  any 
reserve  of  scouts,  but  sent  four  with  George  and  took  the 
other  four  with  me. 

The  fourth  day  after  starting,  about  noon,  I saw  a 
band  of  Indians  in  camp  ten  miles  from  the  Lieutenant’s 
quarters.  I knew  this  to  be  a new  camp,  as  I had  been 
over  the  same  ground  only  two  days  previous.  The  In- 
dians were  camped  in  a valley  nearly  a mile  wide  that 
had  not  a stick  of  timber  on  it,  except  the  few  small  wil- 
lows that  grew  along  the  little  rill  that  ran  through  the 
valley,  consequently  I could  not  get  close  enough  to 
ascertain  the  number  of  the  Indians  until  after  dark.  In 
the  meantime  I telegraphed  the  Lieutenant  to  hold  his 
men  in  readiness  or  to  move  on  at  once  as  he  thought 
best. 

As  soon  as  he  received  my  message  he  mounted  two 
companies  of  cavalry  and  pushed  on  to  the  place  where  I 
had  told  the  messenger  to  meet  me  on  his  return. 

While  the  messenger  went  to  headquarters,  in  com- 
pany with  one  of  my  scouts  I went  down  near  the  Indian 
camp  to  try  to  ascertain  if  possible  their  number,  leaving 
the  other  two  scouts  in  charge  of  the  horses.  The  only 
way  we  could  get  at  the  number  was  to  count  the  fires 


COMMAND  ARRIVES. 


42  5 


and  make  an  estimate  in  that  way.  The  Indians  seemed 
to  be  nervous  and  much  disturbed  that  night  from  some 
cause;  con- 
tinually lit- 
tle squads 
of  them 
would  walk 
from  one 
fire  to  an- 
other. Af- 
ter we  had 
crawled 
a r o u n d 
s o mething 
like  two 
hours  and 
made  our 
esti  mate., 
we  return- 
ed to  our 

horses  and  comrades,  and  I never  was  more  surprised  in 
my  life  than  when  I got  back  and  met  Lieut.  Jackson 
there  with  his  command,  for  I did  not  think  sufficient 
time  had  passed  for  him  to  come  that  distance.  I sat 
down  and  explained  the  lay  of  the  ground  as  best  I could; 
nothing  being  in  the  way  except  the  little  creek  that 
carried  the  water  across  the  valley,  and  I told  him  that 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  below  the  Indian  camp 
the  horses  would  be  able  to  jump  it.  I also  told  them 
that  I estimated  their  number  at  two  hundred. 

The  Lieutenant  said:  “I  think  I will  attack  them  at 


I sat  down  and  explained  the  lay  of  the  ground. 


426 


ANOTHER  BATTLE, 


once,”  and  asked  me  if  I had  their  horses  located.  I 
told  him  I had.  He  then  gave  orders  for  all  of  the  men 
to  muffle  their  spurs,  and  he  asked  me  to  take  my  four 
men  and  as  soon  as  the  charge  was  made  to  make  a 
dash  for  the  horses,  cut  them  off  and  stampede  them. 
So  we  made  the  start,  my  scouts  and  I on  the  extreme 
right  of  their  entire  command.  The  Lieutenant  had  ex- 
plained to  the  command  that  he  would  give  the  word  in 
an  undertone,  each  corporal  to  take  it  up,  and  they  also 
had  orders  to  hold  their  sabres  up  in  a way  that  they 
could  not  make  any  noise.  Being  good  starlight  that 
night,  one  could  see  fairly  well.  We  rode  within  less 
than  one  hundred  yards  of  the  Indian  camp  before  the 
word  was  given  to  charge.  When  we  were  in  sight  of 
the  horses  we  raised  the  yell  and  they  all  started,  and  we 
did  not  let  them  stop  until  at  headquarters  the  next 
morning  at  daybreak.  At  this  haul  we  got  one  hundred 
and  eighty-two  horses. 

The  Lieutenant  returned  with  his  command  at  ten 
o’clock  the  same  morning,  and  he  told  me  that  he  didn’t 
think  a dozen  Indians  escaped. 

In  this  engagement  he  did  not  lose  a man,  and  only 
a few  were  wounded,  but  five  horses  were  hurt,  and 
those  he  had  killed  after  returning  to  headquarters,  claim- 
ing that  in  this  warm  climate,  where  the  flies  were  so 
bad,  it  took  too  much  attention  to  cure  them. 

The  two  days  following  were  days  of  rest  with  us, 
very  little  being  done  in  the  way  of  scouting.  On  the 
morning  of  the  third  day  after  the  battle,  George  and  his 
force  went  out  to  make  a tour  around  the  camp,  and 
Lieut.  Jackson,  myself  and  four  scouts  went  out  to  try  to 


Apache  stronghold. 


427 


kill  some  deer,  as  we  were  getting  very  hungry  for  fresh 
meat,  having  been  so  long  on  bacon  that  we  were  all 
sick  and  tired  of  it.  That  day  we  killed  four  deer,  and 
that  night  we  camped  six  miles  from  our  quarters.  The 
next  morning  the  Lieutenant  sent  to  headquarters  for  ten 
pack  animals,  and  we  remained  to  hunt.  In  two  days 
we  killed  all  the  game  we  could  pack  to  camp  on  the  ten 
animals.  On  ouf  return  the  Lieutenant  said  to  me: 
“This  part  we  will  have  to  keep  to  ourselves,  for  if  we 
tell  the  General  that  we  were  out  hunting  and  spent 
three  days  on  the  trip  he  would  swear  until  everything 
around  would  turn  blue.” 

After  .this  we  made  two  and  three  day  scouting  trips. 
While  out  on  one  of  these,  I found  where  the  Apache 
stronghold  was;  down  in  a deep  canyon,  which  since 
then  has  been  known  as  Black  canyon.  From  all  ap- 
pearance the  greater  part  of  the  tribe  was  there.  This 
canyon  was  tributary  to  the  Colorado,  and  the  hardest 
place  to  get  into  I have  ever  seen  in  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. 

After  making  as  good  an  investigation  as  the  sur- 
roundings would  permit,  I returned  with  my  scouts  to 
the  command  to  report.  In  making  my  report  I said: 
“Lieutenant,  I cannot  half  describe  that  canyon  to  you, 
for  it  is  beyond  any  doubt  the  blackest  looking  place  I 
have  ever  seen  in  all  my  travels.”  I told  the  Lieutenant 
that  I would  like  to  have  him  go  with  me  and  view  the 
place  before  he  moved  his  command.  The  canyon  was 
fifty  miles  from  our  quarters.  That  same  night  George 
Jones  returned  with  his  four  scouts,  and  the  morning  fol- 
lowing we  started  out  with  the  entire  scout  force,  taking 


428 


Black  Canyon. 


four  days’  rations  with  us.  On  the  morning  of  the  sec- 
ond day  we  came  in  sight  of  the  canyon.  The  Lieuten- 
ant took  a good  look  at  it  through  his  glasses,  after 
which  he  said:  “Captain,  I think  you  named  it  well 

when  you  called  it  a Black  canyon,  for  it  looks  as  if  it 
would  be  impossible  to  enter  it  on  horseback.”  That 
day  and  the  next  was  spent  in  trying  to  find  where  the 
Indians  entered  the  canyon,  and  we  at  last  discovered 
that  they  entered  it  from  the  east  and  west  with  horses, 
by  descending  a very  abrupt  mountain,  and  they  were 
strung  up  and  down  the  canyon  for  five  miles.  After  thr 
Lieutenant  had  made  examinations  of  the  location  we 
started  back  to  headquarters. 

The  Lieutenant  and  I fell  back  to  the  rear  in  order  to 
have  a private  conversation  relative  to  the  situation.  He 
said:  “To  be  honest  with  you,  I don’t  think  it  safe  to 

go  in  there  with  less  than  two  thousand  soldiers,  espec- 
ially at  this  time  of  the  year.  If  the  Indians  are  as 
strong  as  they  look  to  be,  and  have  the  advantage  of  the 
ground  that  they  seem  to  have,  it  would  only  be  sport 
for  them  to  lie  behind  those  rocks  and  shoot  the  soldiers 
down  as  fast  as  they  could  enter  the  canyon.  This  is 
the  first  time  I ever  went  out  hunting  Indians,  found 
them,  and  had  to  go  away  and  let  them  alone.  To  tell 
the  truth,  I don’t  know  what  to  do,  for  if  I report  to  the 
General  he  will  come  at  once  with  all  his  forces  and  ac- 
complish nothing  when  here.” 

The  Black  canyon  is  in  the  northwest  corner  of  Ari- 
zona, where  it  joins  on  to  California  and  Nevada.  Since 
that  time  there  have  been  more  soldiers  killed  in  that 
place  than  in  all  the  balance  of  Arizona  territory. 


OUR  NEW  CAMP. 


429 


After  he  had  thought  the  matter  over  for  a day  or  so 
he  decided  to  move  the  command  up  near  Black  canyon, 
catch  small  parties  out  from  there,  and  try  in  that  man- 
ner to  weaken  them,  or  he  might  succeed  in  drawing 
them  out,  and  in  that  way  be  able  to  get  a fight  out  of 
them  on  something  like  fair  ground.  But  in  this  the 
Lieutenant  was  very  much  disappointed,  for  they  were 
too  smart  to  come  out. 

George  Jones  and  myself,  each  with  .our  company  of 
scouts,  started  out  to  locate  some  place  suitable  for  head- 
quarters, with  instructions  that  anywhere  within  twenty 
miles  would  be  satisfactory.  I was  out  six  days  but  did 
not  find  what  I considered  a suitable  location.  Jones 
was  more  successful.  Within  about  ten  miles  of  the  can- 
yon he  found  what  he  thought  to  be  a suitable  location, 
but  said  it  would  be  impossible  to  get  to  the  place  with 
wagons.  So  the  wagons  were  corralled  and  left  at  our 
present  location  in  charge  of  a sergeant,  with  thirty  in- 
fantrymen. 

Loading  the  entire  pack  train,  we  started  for  How- 
ard’s Point,  that  being  the  name  George  had  given  the 
new  camp. 

Upon  arrival  at  our  new  camp  the  Lieutenant  put 
out  pickets  all  around  camp  one  mile  away,  keeping  them 
there  day  and  night  while  we  remained.  The  scouts  for 
the  next  six  weeks  were  almost  worked  to  death,  without 
accomplishing  much  of  anything,  from  the  fact  that  we 
were  too  close  to  the  maiu  body  of  Indians  to  catch  them 
in  small  squads,  for  in  going  out  to  hunt  they  would  not 
go  into  camp  until  twenty  or  thirty  miles  from  their  head- 
quarters, and  our  plan  was  to  catch  them  in  camp  and 


430 


TWO  SCOUTS  KILLED. 


attack  them  either  in  the  night  or  just  at  daybreak  in 
the  morning. 

One  morning  after  being  here  ten  days,  the  whole 
scout  force  started  in  two  squads,  with  the  understand- 
ing that  we  keep  in  about  one  mile  of  each  other,  so  that 
if  one  squad  should  encounter  a band  of  Indians  the 
other  could  come  to  the  relief. 

After  traveling  about  ten  miles  we  heard  shots  in  the 
dierction  where  I knew  George  was  with  his  four  assist- 
ants, and  turning  in  that  direction,  we  put  our  horses 
down  to  their  best  speed,  and  were  soon  at  the  scene  of 
action,  but  owing  to  the  roughness  of  the  ground  we 
could  not  make  as  good  time  as  we  desired.  When  in 
sight  of  the  contestants  I saw  that  George  was  on  foot, 
a comrade  on  each  side  of  him,  and  they  were  firing  as 
fast  as  they  could  load  and  shoot.  He  had  run  into  those 
Indians,  about  twenty  in  number,  hid  in  the  rocks,  and 
they  had  opened  fire  on  the  scouts,  killing  two  of  his 
men  the  first  shot,  and  shooting  George’s  horse  from 
under  him,  leaving  him  afoot.  When  we  arrived  I 
ordered  my  men  to  dismount  and  take  to  the  rocks,  leav- 
ing the  horses  to  take  care  of  themselves,  as  the  Indians 
were  on  foot  and  we  could  make  better  time  in  that  im- 
mediate vicinity  than  we  could  on  our  horses.  We  had 
a hot  little  fight,  but  succeeded  in  driving  the  savages 
back.  After  the  battle  was  over  we  tied  our  dead  com- 
rades on  one  horse  and  packed  them  to  camp,  changing 
off  with  George  and  the  scout  whose  horse  the  dead 
bodies  were  tied  on,  letting  them  ride  our  horses  part  of 
the  time.  That  night  we  dug  graves  and  gave  the  two 
comrades  as  decent  a burial  as  circumstances  would  per- 


MORE  SCOUTS. 


431 


mit.  George  felt  very  sorry  over  losing  the  two  scouts 
because  they  were  in  his  charge,  but  he  was  not  to  blame 
in  the  least. 

In  this  little  battle  we  got  six  Indians,  and  they  killed 
two  of  our  men  and  three  horses.  Lieut.  Jackson  thought 
it  would  now  be  advisable  to  increase  the  number  of 
scouts  and  have  a sufficient  force  together  to  be  able  to 
protect  ourselves,  for  we  were  to  remain  here  a month 
longer,  and  if 
in  that  time  we 
were  not  able 
in  some  way  to 
get  at  the  In- 
dians we  would 
return  to  the 
fort  and  wait 
until  spring. 

Two  weeks 
later  I was  out 
on  a scouting 
tour  when  I saw 
a small  band  of 
Indians  coming 
out  of  Black 
canyon  and 
making  their 
way  westward. 

W hen  they  Shooting  from  behind  the  rocks. 

were  within 
ten  miles  of  our  headquarters  I got  to  count  them,  find- 
ing there  were  forty  in  the  band,  all  on  foot.  I decided 


43* 


A HUNTING  PARTY. 


that  they  had  started  on  a hunt  and  I would  keep  my  eye 
on  them  to  see  where  they  would  camp  for  the  night. 
By  this  time  I had  all  the  water  in  this  region  located, 
and  when  I would  see  a band  of  Indians  late  in  the  even- 
ing I could  tell  about  where  they  would  camp. 

As  soon  as  I had  decided  where  those  would  camp  I 
telegraphed  to  Lieut.  Jackson  the  situation.  Where 
these  Indians  camped  was  within  six  miles  of  our  quar- 
ters, but  a miserable  place  to  enter  with  horses,  but  I 
thought  we  could  ride  within  a mile  of  the  place  on 
horseback. 

The  Lieutenant,  however,  was  well  acquainted  with 
the  ground,  and  as  soon  as  he  read  my  message  he 
mounted  his  cavalrymen  and  started,  and  met  me  within 
a mile  of  the  Indian  camp.  Dismounting,  he  and  his 
men  started  on  foot  to  the  camp,  and  he  told  the  sol- 
diers to  walk  lightly,  and  when  in  sight  of  the  camp  to 
get  down  and  crawl,  but  to  be  very  careful  not  to  break 
a limb  or  twig.  I was  very  much  disappointed  in  not 
getting  to  see  this  fight,  for  after  I had  sent  my  message 
to  headquarters  my  horse  fell  with  me  and  dislocated  my 
right  knee. 

Lieut.  Jackson  said  that  he  had  never  seen  Indians 
fight  harder  in  the  dark  than  they  did.  He  had  three  to 
their  one,  and  said  if  it  had  been  daylight  he  thought 
they  would  have  held  the  soldiers  in  check  for  some  little 
time.  He  did  not  think  that  he  got  all  of  them.  In 
this  action  he  lost  two  men  killed  and  seven  wounded, 
two  of  whom  died  afterwards  from  their  wounds. 

I was  laid  up  for  a month  with  my  knee,  having  to 
go  on  crutches  most  of  the  time,  and  it  has  given  me 

r 


back  at  Fort  Yuma. 


433 


more  or  less  trouble  since,  even  up  to  the  present  time. 
After  we  had  arrived  at  our  headquarters  the  Lieutenant 
concluded  that  as  it  was  getting  late,  we  had  better  move 
in  the  direction  of  the  fort,  and  we  started,  making  ten 
miles  a day,  and  keeping  out  a strong  force  of  scouts, 
thinking  they  might  be  able  while  in  the  mountains  to 
capture  small  bands  of  hunting  Apaches,  but  no  more 
Indians  were  seen. 

When  we  were  out  of  the  mountains  we  doubled  our 
distance,  making  about  twenty  miles  a day.  Having  no 
other  way  to  travel  than  on  horseback,  my  knee  swelled 
badly,  and  when  we  got  to  Mr.  Davis’  ranch,  which  was 
forty  miles  from  Fort  Yuma,  I had  to  stop  and  rest  a few 
days.  This  was,  however,  a very  desirable  place  for  an 
unmarried  man  to  stop,  for  Mr.  Davis  had  some  young 
daughters  who  were  very  attractive.  I remained  there  a 
week,  until  I got  the  swelling  reduced  in  my  leg,  and 
Mr.  Davis  hauled  me  to  the  fort  in  a wagon,  taking  at 
the  same  time  a load  of  watermelons  and  tomatoes, 
which  grew  abundantly  in  that  country.  When  I arrived 
at  Fort  Yuma  Gen.  Crook  told  me  to  take  good  care  of 
myself,  also  saying  he  was  highly  pleased  with  the  suc- 
cess of  the  past  season,  and  he  said:  “If  I live  until 

spring  I am  going  to  see  that  Black  canyon  of  yours  that 
Lieut.  Jackson  has  told  me  so  much  about.” 

During  this  winter  we  got  a weekly  mail  established 
from  Fort  Yuma  to  Los  Angeles.  I had  been  here  over 
eight  months  and  had  not  seen  a newspaper  since  I came, 
and  when  this  mail  line  was  established  nearly  every 
man  subscribed  for  a paper  of  some  kind,  and  the  fort  for 
the  first  time  was  blessed  with  plenty  of  reading  matter, 


434 


THE  PAYMASTER. 


and  we  were  able  to  gain  a little  knowledge  as  to  what 
*vas  going  on  in  the  civilized  parts  of  the  United  States. 

In  the  fore  part  of  the  month  of  December  the  officers 
put  the  men  to  work  cleaning  and  staightening  things  up 
in  general  about  the  fort.  We  were  all  confident  there 
was  something  up,  but  just  what  was  not  known.  After 
everything  was  in  proper  shape  it  was  whispered  around 
that  the  paymaster  would  be  in  in  a few  days.  On  hear- 
ing this  I asked  Lieut.  Jackson  if  it  was  true,  and  he 

said  it  was,  and  he  also  informed  me  that  from  this  on 

we  would  have  a regular  pay  day;  and  this  was  not  all 

either,  but  that  we  were  to  have  two  more  companies 

of  cavalry  and  one  of  infantry,  and  said  he:  “The  Gen- 

eral is  talking  of  sending  you  and  me  to  California  to  buy 
horses,  but  that  will  not  be  decided  upon  until  the  pay- 
master comes.” 

It  was  the  twentieth  of  December  when  the  paymas- 
ter came,  and  also  the  three  companies  of  recruits  spoken 
of  by  the  Lieutenant.  This  was  the  first  pay  day  the 
soldiers  had  had  for  over  a year,  and  the  boys  all  had 
plenty  of  money,  but  a poor  show  to  spend  it,  as  there 
were  no  saloons  or  gambling  houses  there,  so  they 
amused  themselves  by  gambling  among  themselves,  and 
one  could  go  all  around  the  fort  and  see  all  kinds  of 
games  running,  and  there  was  money  flying  in  the  air. 


" 


Old  Mission  House,  Santa  Barbara,  California. 


to  , California. 


435 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


To  California  for  horses. — My  beautiful  mare, 
Black  Bess. — We  get  sixty-six  scalps  and  sev- 
enty-eight HORSES. A CLEAN  SWEEP. 


It  was  about  the  first  of  January  when  Gen.  Crook 
ordered  Lieut.  Jackson  and  I to  go  to  California  to  buy 
fifty  head  of  cavalry  horses.  With  an  escort  of  twelve 
men  we  headed  for  Los  Angeles,  expecting  to  be  able  to 
procure  the  horses  there,  which  we  did,  and  were  back  at 
Yuma  in  a little  more  than  a month  preparing  to  give 
Apaches  more  of  our  warm  social  attention.  In  this 
campaign  Lieut.  Jackson  was  to  take  the  lead  with  two 
companies  of  cavalry  and  one  of  infantry,  and  take  the 
same  route  as  the  season  before.  Gen.  Crook  was  to 
follow  in  a month,  taking  no  wagons,  but  a pack-train  of 
one  hundred  animals.  Only  Mexicans  were  employed 
this  time  as  packers,  and  the  captain  of  our  train  was 
named  Angel,  but  he  didn’t  look  it. 

It  was  arranged  between  Gen.  Crook  and  I thaY  1 was 
to  have  twelve  scouts  and  select  them  myself.  The 
General  sent  a sergeant  with  me  to  take  the  names  of 
the  men  I wished  to  secure,  and  then  he  gave  me  per- 
mission to  go  into  the  corrall  and  select  two  horses  for 
each  of  my  men,  taking  anything  that  did  not  belong  to 
a commissioned  officer.  In  the  afternoon  of  the  same 
day  Lieut.  Jackson  came  to  me  and  said:  '‘Captain,  I 


436 


Black  Bess. 


have  a present  for  you  if  you  will  accept  it.  I want  to 
give  you  Black  Bess.” 

This  was  the  beautiful  mare  that  he  rode  the  year  be- 
fore and  of  which  I spoke  previously. 

It  was  a very  acceptable  present  indeed,  and  I was 
surprised  to  learn  that  he  would  part  with  her,  but  he 
walked  down  to  the  stable  and  turned  her  over  to  me. 
He  had  never  ridden  her  when  going  into  a fight  except 


She  would  paw  until  I woke. 


the  time  of  which  I made  mention  when  out  on  the 
scouting  tour.  He  said  to  me:  “She  is  too  fine  an  ani- 

mal forme,  and  if  you  will  train  her  a little  she  will  be  a 
perfect  companion  to  you.” 

This  black  mare  proved  to  be  the  most  intelligent 
animal  that  I had  ever  owned  in  my  life,  and  there  was 
nothing  she  seemed  to  dislike  so  much  as  the  sight  or 
even  the  scent  of  an  Indian.  Often  when  out  scouting  I 


STRUCK  A TRAIL. 


437 


have  got  off  of  her  and  let  her  feed  at  the  end  of  a picket 
rope  while  I would  lie  down  and  sleep,  and  the  moment 
she  would  see  or  scent  anything  strange  she  would  come 
to  where  I was  lying  and  paw  until  I would  raise  up  and 
look  in  the  direction  of  whatever  object  she  had  seen  or 
heard,  and  in  less  than  three  months  she  was  the  pet  of 
the  entire  command.  She  would  follow  me  like  a dog 
anywhere  I would  go. 

We  pulled  out  for  the  mountains,  and  went  some- 
thing like  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  Fort  Yuma 
before  making  a halt  for  a permanent  camp — this  being 
in  the  fore  part  of  February,  1866 — and  as  soon  as  we 
were  fairly  settled  we  began  active  work. 

We  had  only  been  there  a few  days  when  George 
Jones  came  in  and  reported  having  seen  the  trail  of  a 
band  of  Indians  coming  from  the  direction  of  Black  can- 
yon. George,  myself  and  four  other  scouts  started  out 
immediately  to  take  the  trail,  which  was  ten  miles  south 
of  our  quarters.  We  camped  on  their  trail  that  night  on 
account  of  the  country  being  too  rough  to  travel  after 
night,  but  the  next  morning  we  were  off  early  and  fol- 
lowed the  trail  all  day.  Just  before  sundown  we  halted 
on  a high  ridge,  when  I took  a look  through  my  glasses 
over  the  country.  About  twelve  miles  away  I saw  an 
Apache  camp.  The  course  they  had  traveled  that  day 
brought  them  about  as  near  our  quarters  as  where  we  had 
struck  their  trail,  and  from  this  I came  to  the  conclusion 
that  they  were  either  looking  for  the  command  or  were 
expecting  an  attack. 

Now  the  country  between  us  and  the  Indians  was 


438 


Indians  in  camp. 


very  rough,  but  I told  the  boys  that  we  must  get  there 
that  night,  and  as  quickly  as  possible. 

I could  seethe  country  between  the  Indians  and  head- 
quarters, and  they  were  not  more  than  fifteen  miles  from 
there,  although  we  were  about  twelve  miles  away,  and 
about  the  same  distance  from  the  Indians. 

Knowing  that  Lieut.  Jackson  would  be  anxious  to 
hear  from  me,  I sent  one  man  back  to  camp  to  report  to 
him,  with  instructions  as  to  the  course  to  move,  also  for 
him  to  throw  up  a rocket  every  mile  or  so,  that  I might 
know  where  to  send  my  next  messenger  to  meet  him. 
Myself  and  the  other  four  scouts  started  for  the  Indian 
camp,  and  it  took  two  hours  and  a half  the  best  we 
could  do  to  reach  it. 

When  we  were  within  a quarter  of  -a  mile  of  them, 
that  being  as  near  as  we  thought  it  safe  to  ride,  we  dis- 
mounted, and  leaving  two  men  in  charge  of  our  horses, 
the  other  three  of  us  started  to  crawl  down  to  their  camp, 
at  least  near  enough  to  find  out  about  their  number. 

They  had  not  lain  down  for  the  night  nor  had  they 
any  guards  out  with  their  horses,  but  were  sitting  around 
the  camp-fire  smoking  and  apparently  enjoying  them- 
selves. 

No  doubt  if  we  could  have  understood  their  language 
they  were  then  laying  plans  to  capture  the  first  emigrant 
train  that  might  come  that  way.  The  moon  was  shin- 
ing brightly,  and  we  had  a splendid  chance  to  have  stam- 
peded their  stock,  but  I did  not  think  it  best  from  the 
fact  that  it  would  put  them  on  their  guard,  which  would 
be  to  the  detriment  of  the  cavalry  when  they  should  ar- 
rive. We  decided  not  to  disturb  them  until  the  cavalry 


COMMAND  ARRIVES. 


439 


came  up,  knowing  that  the  command  would  lose  no  time 
in  getting  there,  and  that  it  would  be  before  daylight  if 
it  was  possible. 

We  counted  the  horses  of  the  Indians  as  best  we 
could  by  moonlight,  and  made  out  eighty  head  of  them. 
We  could  not  make  out  just  the  number  of  Indians,  but 
estimated  them  at  seventy-five,  After  ascertaining  as 
near  as  we  could  the  lay  of  the  ground  and  the  general 
situation,  we  returned  to  our  horses,  and  all  started  in 
the  direction  that  we  expected  the  command  to  come 
from.  After  we  had  ridden  about  a half  mile  I stopped, 
and  George  Jones  started  on  with  the  other  scouts  to 
meet  the  command.  After  riding  five  miles  they  met 
Lieut.  Jackson  coming  with  two  companies  of  cavalry 
and  the  entire  scout  force;  and  long  before  I expected 
them  Black  Bess  told  me  by  her  actions  that  they  were 
coming. 

The  Lieutenant  formed  his  men  in  a triangle  on  the 
ridge,  his  object  being  to  pocket  the  Indians;  in  other 
words,  to  bunch  them  up  or  prevent  them  from  scatter- 
ing. While  he  was  forming  his  men  and  giving  instruc- 
tions, I told  my  men  where  the  horses  were  and  that  we 
must  get  to  them  about  the  time  the  cavalry  made  the 
attack  on  the  Indians.  I told  them  that  no  doubt  the 
horses  would  have  ropes  on  them  and  the  first  one  that  I 
come  to  I would  take  him  and  lead  the  way.  “And 
when  you  hear  the  first  shot,  all  raise  the  yell,  for  by  do- 
ing that  we  will  be  able  to  make  the  stampede,  and  if 
nothing  goes  wrong  we  will  keep  the  stock  going  until 
we  reach  headquarters.”  When  I got  to  the  horses  about 
the  first  one  I stumbled  onto  was  a white  one,  with  a 


440 


A SUCCESSFUL  ATTACK. 


long  hair  rope  on;  I caught  him  and  led  the  way,  and  he 
made  a good  leader  for  the  others  to  follow. 

We  got  to  the  horses  a few  moments  before  the  sol- 
diers got  to  the  Indian  camp,  and  at  the  first  shot  we  all 
raised  the  yell,  and  as  I led  the  white  pony  away  all  fol- 
lowed, and  we  did  not  halt  until  we  were  five  or  six 
miles  off.  Here  we  came  to  a small  stream  that  mean- 
dered through  a little  valley.  There  we  stopped  awhile 
to  let  our  horses  drink  and  rest,  and  while  there  we 
counted  our  horses  and  found  that  we  had  seventy-eight. 

We  reached  camp  about  six  o’clock  the  next  morn- 
ing, but  the  soldiers  did  not  get  in  until  noon.  When 
the  fight  was  over  the  Lieutenant  put  out  a strong  picket 
guard  and  remained  there  until  morning  in  order  to  catch 
the  Apaches  that  might  be  secreted  in  the  sage-brush. 

When  daylight  came  he  succeed  in  jumping  up  eleven, 
which  he  considered  ample  pay  for  staying  there  a few 
hours.  In  this  fight  sixty-six  Indians  were  killed,  besides 
we  got  all  their  horses,  blankets,  ropes  and  such  other 
articles  as  they  had. 

We  did  but  little  in  the  way  of  scouting  for  the  next 
few  days.  Lieut.  Jackson  said  that  we  had  made  a good 
beginning  and  we  did  not  want  to  do  much  before  Gen. 
Crook  came.  '‘For,”  said  he,  we  will  have  all  the  fight- 
ing we  want  when  the  General  gets  here.” 

The  morning  of  the  third  day  after  the  fight  we 
started  out  with  the  entire  scout  force  in  squads  of  four, 
there  being  three  squads,  with  the  understanding  that  we 
were  to  keep  in  from  one  to  three  miles  of  each  other, 
and  all  to  camp  together  at  night. 

We  took  along  with  us  four  days’  rations,  but  a scout 


ANOTHER  BAND. 


44 1 


is  expected  to  live  on  four  days’  rations  for  eight  days  if 
it  becomes  necessary,  for  when  he  starts  he  never  knows 
just  where  he  is  going  or  when  he  will  return. 

It  was  in  the  afternoon  of  the  third  day  that  I ran  on 
to  an  Indian  trail  that  appeared  from  the  number  of 
horse-tracks  to  be  about  twenty  in  the  band.  We  could 
tell  that  they  had  passed  there  that  day,  so  we  followed 
the  trail;  and  it  was  not  long  until  the  other  two  pulled 
in  towards  me,  and  we  were  soon  near  enough  that  I 
could  signal  to  them,  or  they  to  me,  and  shortly  we  all 
met  on  the  trail. 

We  had  not  followed  long  before  we  came  in  sight  of 
the  Indians  riding  leisurely  along,  and  we  then  set  it 
down  that  they  were  a band  of  Apaches  on  their  way  to 
the  Oscuro  Mountains  for  a hunt.  They  went  into  camp 
early  that  night  on  account  of  water,  and  after  supper 
they  amused  themselves  by  running  foot-races.  I was 
tempted  several  times  before  dark  to  make  a charge  on 
them,  but  knowing  that  we  could  accomplish  our  end 
better  by  waiting  until  after  dark,  we  held  back  until 
they  had  all  turned  in  for  the  night.  They  did  not  lie 
down  until  about  nine  o’clock,  and  by  this  time  the  boys 
were  all  getting  anxious  for  a fight.  We  waited  about 
an  hour  after  they  had  all  lain  down  and  then  we  started 
to  crawl  down  to  their  camp.  We  agreed  to  use  our 
knives  and  sabres,  George  Jones  and  I each  having  a big 
knife,  all  the  rest  having  sabres. 

Our  idea  for  this  was  to  prevent  any  of  our  own  party 
from  being  shot  accidently;  but  each  man  had  his  pistol 
in  his  left  had  with  instructions  not  to  use  it  except 
in  case  of  emergency.  We  crawled  into  the  camp  un- 


442 


CRAWLED  INTO  CAMP. 


discovered  as  the  Indians  had  no  dogs  along  to  give  the 
alarm. 

Previous  to  this  I had  told  the  boys  that  I could 
crawl  all  over  an  Indian  and  not  wake  him  up,  and  I 
came  near  demonstrating  it  that  night.  They  were  ap- 
parently asleep  and  badly  scattered,  two  in  a place. 

I had  told  the  boys  not  to  strike  until  they  saw  that 
I was  just  in  the  act  of  striking;  that  when  they  saw  me 
raise  up  for  each  man  to  spring  to  his  feet  and  get  his 
Indian  the  first  lick  if  possible,  and  not  to  let  up  as  long 
as  they  could  see  one  kick. 

It  being  bright  moonlight  we  could  see  each  other 
very  plainly,  and  we  crawled  right  in  among  them,  there 
being  no  order  whatever  in  their  camp.  When  I came 
to  where  there  were  two  lying  with  their  backs  together, 
I made  up  my  mind  that  that  was  too  good  a chance  for 
me  to  let  pass;  so  I looked  around  to  see  if  the  boys  had 
their  men  selected,  and  seeing  that  they  had,  and  that 
they  were  all  watching  me  and  the  Indians  also,  I raised 
to  my  feet,  and  placing  my  right  foot  between  the  two 
Indians,  I aimed  to  sever  the  first  one’s  head  from  his 
body,  which  I came  near  doing,  for  he  only  just  quivered 
after  I struck  him.  At  that  they  all.  began  the  work  of 
blood  and  death. 

The  second  one  I attacked  I had  to  deal  the  second 
blow,  as  I also  did  the  third  one.  Up  to  this  time  I had 
not  heard  a word  from  any  one  of  my  companions,  but 
there  had  been  a continual  ringing  of  sabres  all  around 
me.  Just  as  I had  done  up  my  last  Indian  George 
sprang  to  my  side  and  said:  “Cap,  we  have  got  every 

one  of  them.”  We  counted  them  and  found  that  we 


TWENTY-TWO  DEAD. 


443 


had  killed  twenty-two,  and  after  examining  their  blankets 
and  other  “traps,”  we  knew  that  we  had  got  them  all. 

They  had  killed  a fine  buck  deer  during  the  day  and 
had  only  cooked  enough  of  it  for  their  supper,  so  we  had 
plenty  of  fresh  meat,  for  a while,  at  least;  so  while 
George  and  some  of  the  other  scouts  went  for  our  horses, 
which  were  about  a quarter  of  a mile  from  camp,  the  re- 
mainder of  us  built  a fire  and  began  roasting  venison. 
This  was  the  first  fresh  meat  we  had  on  the  trip. 

The  morning  following  we  gathered  up  the  horses 
and  found  we  had  twenty-two,  and  we  started  two  of  the 
men  to  headquarters  with  them,  and  also  sent  a message 
to  Lieut.  Jackson  to  the  effect  that  we  were  going  in  east 
of  Black  canyon  to  see  what  kind  of  a country  it  was. 
We  were  out  seven  days  longer,  making  ten  days  in  all, 
but  we  did  not  make  any  new  discovery. 

When  we  returned  to  headquarters  I learned  that 
Lieut.  Jackson  had  received  a dispatch  from  Gen.  Crook, 
to  the  effect  that  he  would  soon  be  on  with  more  supplies 
and  men. 

The  Lieutenant  advised  me  to  work  close  to  quarters, 
as  the  General  was  likely  to  be  on  any  day,  and  said  it 
was  hard  to  tell  what  he  would  want  to  do  when  there. 


— :o:— 


444 


Gen.  Crook  arrives. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


Some  men  who  were  anxious  for  a fight  and  got 
it. — Gen.  Crook  at  Black  Canyon. — Bad  mistake 

OF  A GOOD  MAN. THE  VICTIMS. 


After  the  events  of  the  last  chapter  I remained  in 
camp  most  of  the  time,  and  sent  my  assistants  out  in 
different  directions,  with  orders  to  return  the  same  day. 

In  ten  days  Gen.  Crook  made  his  appearance,  with 
two  companies  of  cavalry  and  one  of  infantry. 

The  next  day  after  his  arrival  after  having  talked  the 
matter  over  relative  to  Black  canyon  and  the  country 
surrounding  it,  he  asked  me  how  far  it  was  to  the  noted 
place.  I told  him  it  was  what  we  called  fifty  miles.  The 
General  said:  “There  is  where  I want  to  go.  Those 

men  I brought  out  with  me  are  anxious  for  a fight.  I 
brought  them  out  here  to  fight,  and  I will  see  that  they 
get  it.”  He  told  me  that  the  day  following  he  wished 
me  to  accompany  him  to  that  country,  saying:  “You 

can  take  as  many  of  your  scouts  along  as  you  like,  and  I 
will  make  a detail  of  twenty  men  to  do  camp  duty.” 

We  started  out  the  following  morning  for  Black  can- 
yon, taking  along  my  entire  scout  force.  In  the  after- 
noon of  the  second  day  I piloted  Gen.  Crook  to  a high 
ridge,  where,  with  his  glasses,  he  could  overlook  the 
whole  country.  He  could  see  Black  canyon  and  the  per- 


LOOKING  FOR  INDIANS. 


445 


pendicular  wall  of  rock  on  the  opposite  side  for  miles  and 
miles,  in  fact,  as  far  as  he  could  see  with  his  glasses. 
After  he  had  looked  the  country  all  over  he  asked  me 
where  we  could  get  into  the  canyon.  In  answer  to  this 
question  I said:  “General  it  is  easy  enough  to  get  into 

it,  but  the  question  is  where  to  get  out.” 

He  said:  “We  surely  can  get  out  where  we  go  in  if 

we  only  have  sense  enough  to  keep  our  eyes  open.”  So 


I told  him  that  I would  show  him  the  next  morning.  We 
returned  to  camp  and  I started  out  on  foot  to  find  some 
fresh  meat,  and  had  gone  but  a short  distance  when  I 
ran  on  to  a band  of  wild  turkeys,  and  killed  two  fat  gob- 
blers. Turkeys  seemed  to  keep  fat  in  that  country  the 
year  around,  as  those  that  I killed  were  very  fat.  Dur- 
ing the  time  I was  out  hunting  George  Jones  had  taken 
two  other  scouts  and  had  made  an  entire  circle  of  our 


446 


at  Black  Canyon. 


camp,  and  not  seeing  any  Indians  or  fresh  sign  we  felt 
safe  from  any  attack  that  night. 

The  next  morning  we  did  not  move  camp,  but  leav- 
ing the  twenty  men  detailed  for  camp  duty  in  charge  of 
the  camp  and  stock,  I took  my  entire  scout  force  to 
escort  Gen.  Crook  to  Black  canyon.  When  we  came  to 
where  the  trail  started  down  the  bluff,  he  asked  me  how 
far  I had  been  down.  I told  him  about  a mile,  but  did 
not  let  him  know  that  Lieut.  Jackson  was  with  me  at  the 
time,  knowing  that  the  General  wanted  the  glory  of  be- 
ing the  first  officer  to  investigate  and  take  in  the  situa- 
tiyn  of  Black  canyon.  He  asked  me  if  it  was  safe  for  us 
to  go  down  that  far.  I told  him  it  was  not  at  this  time 
of  day  as  we  could  not  go  that  far  and  back  without  be- 
ing seen  by  hundreds  of  Indians. , 

He  decided  not  to  look  any  further,  but  we  returned 
to  our  camp  and  made  preparations  to  start  back  to 
headquarters  the  next  morning.  He  did  not  say  anything 
to  me  as  to  what  he  thought  of  Black  canyon  that  even- 
ing, but  next  day  on  our  way  back  to  headquarters  he 
asked  me  if  I thought  there  would  be  grass  enough  where 
we  camped  the  night  before  for  three  or  four  hundred 
head  of  stock  for  three  or  four  days.  This  led  me  to  be- 
lieve that  he  intended  moving  a part  of  his  command  to 
that  place. 

As  soon  as  we  were  back  at  headquarters  he  told  me 
that  if  any  of  the  horses  belonging  to  the  scouts  had 
shoes  that  needed  resetting  to  have  it  attended  to  at 
once,  and  also  told  me  to  have  the  scouts  pick  out  the 
very  best  horses  for  the  trip. 

During  the  time  that  these  preparations  were  in  pro- 


MAKING  PREPARATIONS. 


447 


gress,  Lieut.  Jackson  in  a private  conversation  told  me 
that  Gen.  Crook  was  going  to  move  up  with  a portion  of 
the  command  near  Black  canyon  and  try  to  get  into  it. 
I told  him  that  he  could  get  in  there  easy  enough,  but 
had  my  doubts  whether  or  not  he  would  be  able  to  get 
out  with  half  the  men  he  took  in. 

After  having  completed  our  preparations  we  pulled 
out  for  the  Camp  on  the  Mountain,  this  being  the  name 
given  the  camp  by  some  of  our  men  when  we  were  out 
before,  and  I am  told  that  the  springs  where  we  camped 
still  go  by  that  name.  We  started  with  two  companies 
of  cavalry  and  one  of  infantry,  taking  a pack-train  to 
carry  the  supplies. 

The  first  night  at  Camp  on  the  Mountain  Gen.  Crook 
threw  out  a strong  picket  guard,  and  the  next  morning 
he  told  me  to  place  my  men  both  above  and  below  the 
trail  that  they  were  to  travel  in  descending  the  mountain 
into  the  canyon.  I had  examined  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try and  was  thoroughly  posted  in  all  the  ways  and  by- 
ways of  the  Black  canyon,  which  I knew  the  General 
was  not,  and  I told  him  that  there  was  no  danger  from 
above,  from  the  fact  that  it  was  at  least  six  miles  to  the 
next  place  where  the  Indians  could  climb  the  bluff,  but 
this  didn’t  seem  to  satisfy  him,  so  I placed  my  scouts 
according  to  his  directions.  This,  he  said,  was  to  pro- 
tect his  rear. 

I took  my  stand  farthest  down  the  hill  from  any  of 
the  scouts,  being  about  half  way  down,  and  had  my  men 
scattered  along  on  the  mountain  side,  both  above  and 

below.  This  I did  so  that  in  case  any  of  my  men  should 


448 


enter  Black  Canyon 


see  danger  from  above  they  would  report  to  me  at  once 
and  I would  report  to  Gen.  Crook. 

After  I had  my  men  all  placed  and  was  at  my  stand 
I saw  two  companies  of  cavalry  coming  down  the  bluff 
supported  by  one  company  of  infantry.  When  they  got 
to  where  I was  stationed,  it  being  what  we  termed  a 
bench  on  the  mountain,  they  halted,  and  Crook  and 
Jackson  held  a council  in  which  Lieut.  Jackson  advised 
Gen  Crook  to  send  the  infantry  ahead  as  “feelers,”  but 
the  General  thought  just  the  reverse,  saying:  “I  will 

feel  my  way  with  the  cavalry.”  So  they  started  down 
the  mountain  single  file. 

After  they  had  been  gone  about  two  hours,  or  it 
seemed  that  long  to  me  at  least,  I heard  the  firing  com- 
mence; but  I could  tell  from  the  direction  that  they  were 
not  yet  down  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  The  firing 
continued  about  an  hour,  but  I could  not  get  to  see  any 
of  the  battle,  for  I dared  not  leave  my  post  for  fear  that 
some  of  the  scouts  might  come  to  report  to  me,  and  in 
case  I was  away  he  would  not  know  what  to  do. 

At  last  I saw  the  cavalry  coming  back  up  the  moun- 
tain, some  on  foot,  some  leading  their  horses,  and  a very 
few  riding.  The  Indians  were  being  held  in  check  by 
the  infantry  in  order  to  give  the  cavalry  a chance  to  get 
out  of  the  canyon  with  their  horses. 

As  well  as  I can  remember,  in  this  fight  Gen.  Crook 
lost  forty-two  men  killed,  twenty-one  wounded,  and 
sixty  horses  killed. 

That  night  I heard  one  sergeant  ask  another  in  the 
presence  of  Gen.  Crook  when  the  dead  would  be  buried, 
but  the  question  was  not  answered.  The  next  morning 


WITH  HEAVY  LOSS. 


449 


the  General  told  me  to  take  as  many  men  as  I wanted 
and  see  if  I could  recover  the  dead  bodies.  I said.  “Gen. 
eral,  if  you  will  wait  until  night  I will  take  my  men  and 
if  there  are  any  dead  bodies  left  on  the  battlefield  I will 
try  and  get  them,  but  I do  not  propose  to  take  my  men 
and  stick  them  up  for  a target  to  be  shot  at  by  the  In- 
dians when  they  have  no  show  whatever,  for  I will  not 
ask  my  men  to  go  where  I will  not  go  myself.” 

He  said:  “Suit  yourself  about  it,”  and  turned  and 

walked  away. 

That  night  I took  my  entire  scout  force,  besides 
twenty  soldiers  that  volunteered  to  go  along,  and  de- 
scended the  mountain.  We  worked  hard  all  night,  and 
all  that  we  could  find  was  twenty-one  bodies,  and  that 
day  they  were  buried,  after  which  we  commenced  mak- 
ing preparations  to  return  to  headquarters. 

Up  to  that  time  I had  not  had  a chance  to  talk  to 
Lieut.  Jackson  concerning  the  battle  in  Black  canyon,  as 
we  had  both  been  busy  ever  since.  When  on  a march  it 
was  my  custom  to  ride  ahead  of  the  army,  so  the  morn- 
ing that  we  were  ready  to  start  back  I had  given  my 
orders  to  the  scouts,  had  mounted,  and  was  just  ready  to 
start,  when  Lieut.  Jackson  said:  “Wait  a minute,  Cap- 

tain, and  I will  ride  with  you.” 

The  reader  will  understand  that  by  this  time  the 
Lieutenant  and  I were  as  intimate  friends  as  though  we 
were  brothers,  and  when  he  told  me  anything  I could 
rely  upon  it,  and  I had  always  made  it  a rule  to  be  punc- 
tual with  him.  If  he  would  ask  me  a question  I would 
always  answer  it  the  best  I could,  and  if  I asked  him  for 
any  information,  if  he  knew  he  would  tell  me.  And  here 


450 


ON  THE  MARCH 


I would  like  to  say  that  while  Gen.  Crook  bore  the  name 
of  being  a great  Indian  fighter,  I know  for  a fact  that 
Lieut.  Jackson  planned  more  victories  two  to  one  than 
Gen.  Crook  did  himself,  and  had  it  been  in  the  Lieuten- 
ant’s power  to  have  kept  those  soldiers  out  of  Black  can- 
yon, they  never  would  have  entered  it. 

That  morning  after  we  had  ridden  a short  distance 
he  mentioned  the  fight  and  said:  “Cap,  that  was  a hor- 
rible affair.”  I said:  “Lieutenant  it  was  not  half  as 

bad  as  I thought  it  would  be,  for  when  I saw  you  go 
down  there  I did  not  expect  to  see  half  of  the  boys  come 
back.”  He  said:  “Had  it  n'ot  been  for  the  infantry 

coming  to  our  rescue  just  when  it  did  not  a horse  would 

have  come 
out  of  the 
canyon, 
and  but 
very  few 
soldiers.” 

I asked 
him  where 
the  next 
move 
would  b e 
and  hesaid 
that  Gen. 
Crook  was 
going  t o 
return  t o 

the  fort  and  we  would  go  farther  out  on  the  road  to  pro- 
tect the  emigrants,  who  would  soon  begin  to  move  to- 


He  mentioned  the  fight. 


A NEW  CAMP. 


451 


ward  California.  For  the  next  two  or  three  days  every- 
thing was  undergoing  a change  around  camp;  rigging  up 
packs  and  fitting  up  in  general. 

The  soldiers  who  had  their  horses  killed  were  mounted 
on  the  choice  horses  that  we  had  captured  from  the  In- 
dians, which  made  very  fair  cavalry  horses. 

As  soon  as  we  had  completed  our  arrangements  Gen. 
Crook  started  back  for  Fort  Yuma,  much  wiser  than  he 
came,  while  we  pushed  farther  out  on  the  Butterfield 
route,  with  two  companies  cf  cavalry  and  fifty  infantry- 
men. 

We  traveled  four  days  from  our  old  camp  before* 
making  a general  halt.  The  evening  of  the  fourth  day 
just  a short  time  before  we  were  ready  to  go  into  camp 
the  scouts  came  in  and  reported  having  seen  a small  band 
of  Indians  only  a short  distance  west  of  us,  and  they  said 
they  had  watched  them  go  into  camp. 

I reported  to  the  Lieutenant  and  he  started  with  one 
company  of  cavalry  after  them,  leaving  orders  for  the 
command  to  go  into  camp  at  the  next  water,  which  was 
about  a mile  ahead  of  us.  This  proved  to  be  a small 
hunting  party,  and  they  in  some  way  discovered  us  be- 
fore we  got  to  their  camp.  When  we  came  in  sight  of 
them  we  were  about  a quarter  of  a mile  away  from  their 
camp  and  they  had  their  hcrses  all  packed  and  were  be- 
ginning to  mount.  * We  gave  chase,  but  they  had  the 
start  of  us  so  that  we  only  got  two  out  of  the  band,  but 
we  crowded  them  so  close  that  they  had  to  leave  their 
pack-horses,  and  we  got  all  of  them,  there  being  twenty. 

I captured  a fine  American  horse  that  showed  good 
breeding.  He  was  a sorrel,  with  white  hind  feet  and  a 


452 


A FAST  HORSE. 


white  stripe  on  his  face  and  branded  C on  the  left  shoul- 
der. I made  the  Lieutenant  a present  of  this  horse,  and 
he  afterwards  proved  to  be  a very  fast  animal,  as  the 
Lieutenant  told  me  several  years  after,  that  during  the 
winter  months  he  kept  the  soldiers  nearly  all  broke  with 
that  horse.  He  told  me  that  he  proved  to  be  the  fastest 
half  mile  horse  he  ever  saw. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 


The  massacre  at  Choke  Cherry  Canyon. — Mike  Ma- 
loney GETS  INTO  A MUSS. RESCUE  OE  WHITE 

girls. — Mike  gets  even  with  the  Apaches. 


The  emigrants  now  begun  to  come  along  and  we  were 
kept  busy  night  and  day  looking  after  the  small  bands  of 
Indians  that  were  continually  making  murderous  forays 
in  spite  of  all  we  could  do  to  prevent. 

With  only  three  hundred  soldiers  and  twelve  scouts, 
and  a country  over  one  hundred  miles  in  extent  to  guard, 
the  service  was  exacting,  and  our  lot  was  not  altogether 
a happy  one. 

One  day  in  July,  in  company  with  George  Jones  and 
John  Riley,  I started  out  in  the  direction  of  Black  c.*n- 


Choke  Cherry  Canyon. 


453 


yon  to  see  if  I could  locate  any  small  band  of  Apaches 
that  might  be  prowling  around.  We  traveled  all  day, 
and  not  seeing  any  Indians  or  sign  of  them,  concluded  to 
return  to  camp  and  get  some  much  needed  rest,  and  did 
so.  it  now  seemed  that  there  were  no  Apaches  near  us 
so  I went  to  Lieut.  Jackson’s  tent  to  report  to  him,  in- 
tending to  then  lie  down  and  rest  for  the  day  at  least 
He  had  just  rolled  out  of  bed,  but  he  looked  worn  and 
haggard  as  if  he  had  had  a bad  night  of  it.  He  asked 
me  what  news  I had  and  I said  good  news,  as  we  had 
seen  no  Indians  or  any  fresh  sign,  but  that  I was  worn 
out,  having  been  almost  constantly  in  the  saddle  for 
twenty-four  hours.  I asked  him  if  he  had  any  news  and 
he  said  he  had,  and  bad  news  too.  The  Indians  had  at- 
tacked a train  in  Choke  Cherry  canyon,  burned  all  the 
wagons,  but  how  many  persons  they  had  murdered  or 
how  many  had  escaped  he  could  not  tell  me,  as  there 
were  no  scouts  in  camp  at  the  time. 

He  wished  so  know  if  I could  spare  some  men  to  go 
and  bury  the  dead  and  locate  the  Indians.  I replied 
that  George  Jones  and  John  Riley  were  there,  but  that 
like  myself,  they  were  very  much  faUgutd.  He  said  he 
wanted  them  for  another  purpose,  Then  I offered  two 
men,  good  and  fresh,  Jim  Davis  and  Mike  Maloney.  But 
I had  some  uneasiness  as  co  Mike.  Not  that  there  was 
any  doubt  about  his  bravery  but  he  was  so  utterly  incau- 
tious. However,  1 decided  to  go  with  them  myself,  as 
tired  as  I v,as.  So  as  soon  as  I could  get  a bite  to  eat 
and  a fresh  horse  saddled,  we  were  off  and  on  the  way 
to  Choke  Cherry  canyon. 

Lieut.  Jackson  asked  me  when  he  could  expect  to 


454 


Mike  Maloney. 


hear  from  me.  I told  him  that  if  I succeeded  in  locating 
the  Indians  in  a body  I would  report  to  him  at  once,  but 
if  not  he  might  not  hear  from  me  until  my  return.  So 
we  shook  hands  and  he  retired  to  his  tent. 

I directed  Mike  to  go  straight  to  the  canyon  and  to 
keep  on  the  east  side  until  he  came  to  the  trail  leading 
to  Agua  Caliente,  and  then  take  that  trail  direct  for  Sand 
Point;  and  when  near  the  point  to  signal  me  by  barking 
like  a cayote,  and  that  I would  answer  him  by  gobbling 
like  a turkey;  that  he  must  meet  me  at  Sand  Point  at 
three  o’clock  sharp,  and  if  he  was  not  there  at  that  time 
I would  know  that  something  was  wrong.  I also  told 
him  to  be  careful  and  not  run  into  an  ambuscade,  but 
above  all  not  to  be  taken  prisoner.  Then  I asked  him 
if  he  could  bark  like  a cayote.  His  answer  was:  “Sure, 
Captain,  it’s  mesilf  that  can  make  a bloody  cayote 

ashamed  of  himself  bairk- 
ing,  and  I belave  ye’s  is 
afraid  for  me,  but  O’ill  tell 
ye  now  there’s  no  bloody 
Apache  in  all  Arizony 
that’s  goin’  to  take  this 
Irishman  prisoner.  I’m 
sure  they  don’t  want  me 
schalp  anyway,  for  me 
hair  is  too  short.  ” 

I told  Jim  Davis  to  go 
to  Wild  Plum  Ridge  and 
then  follow  the  trail  to 
Sand  Point,  for  him  to  signal  me  the  same  manner  as 
Mike  and  I would  answer  him  in  the  same  manner. 


Mike. 


SCALP  DANCE. 


455 


Everything  being  understood  between  us  we  separ- 
ated, each  taking  his  appointed  route,  and  I striking 
direct  for  the  late  emi- 
grant camp.  Before  I 
got  there,  however,  I ran 
onto  the  trail  of  appar- 
ently three  Indians  and 
concluded  to  follow  them 
up.  I had  not  gone  a 
great  distance  away  until  I 
I espied  them  in  a little 
ravine  a short  distance 
away  and  they  were  hav- 
ing a scalp  dance.  I tied 
my  horse  secure  from  ob- 
servation and  then  com- 
menced to  crawl  upon 
them.  They  were  cir- 
cling two  scalps  that  they 
had  hung  upon  sticks 
stuck  in  the  ground,  every 
now  and  then  drawing  their  bows  as  if  going  to  shoot  at 
them.  I crept  along  cautiously,  expecting  that  the  In- 
dians would  be  so  absorbed  in  their  scalp  dance  that  I 
would  get  in  close  pistol  shot  before  they  discovered  me; 
but  in  this  I was  mistaken,  for  when  yet  a long  rifle  shot 
away  they  espied  me,  and  the  moment  I saw  I was  dis- 
covered I opened  fire  with  both  pistols,  which  caused 
them  to  flee  in  hot  haste,  leaving  the  two  scalps  hanging 
on  the  sticks.  I went  up  to  where  they  were  and  found 


One  scalp  was  that  of  a woman. 


456 


Sand  Point. 


that  one  scalp  was  that  of  a woman  and  the  other  that 
of  a man. 

I was  now  certain  that  there  had  been  some  emi- 
grants murdered,  and  I soon  made  up  my  mind  that 
about  the  first  thing  to  do  was  to  locate  the  bodies  and 
bury  them;  but  on  consulting  my  watch  I saw  that  I 
must  hurry  if  I made  Sand  Point  by  three  o’clock.  Just 
as  I had  turned  and  started  back  to  my  horse,  who 
should  come  up  but  Jim  Davis.  He  had  been  trailing 
the  Indians,  which  brought  him  over  in  my  direction, 
and  when  he  heard  the  shots  he  had  come  with  all  haste 
thinking  that  1 was  in  trouble.  We  both  turned  and 
rode  on  to  Sand  Point,  arriving  there  about  half  past 
three,  but  no  Maloney  was  in  sight,  so  after  giving  the 
signal  agreed  upon  and  receiving  no  answer,  we  made  up 
our  minds  that  he  was  in  trouble,  and  we  struck  out  to 
find  his  trail. 

While  we  were  on  our  way  to  hunt  Maloney’s  trail 
Davis  said:  “Captain,  I believe  those  Indians  had  two 
prisoners  with  them,  and  I think  they  are  both  women, 
judging  from  their  tracks  and  other  indications;  see  here 
what  I found  while  I was  trailing  them.”  And  he  showed 
me  two  pieces  of  calico  of  different  color.  He  thought 
that  they  had  been  dropped  by  the  prisoners  in  the  hope 
that  some  white  person  might  find  them  and  follow.  He 
also  said  that  there  were  small  twigs  broken  off  along  the 
trail,  which  would  indicate  that  they  expected  a search 
for  them. 

When  Maloney  left  us  he  made  direct  for  Sand 
Point,  but  before  he  reached  there  as  he  was  riding 
along  he  discovered  a small  shoe  track,  he  dismounted 


Mike  in  trouble. 


457 


and  tried  to  follow  it,  but  it  seemed  that  the  tracks  ex- 
tended no  farther.  This  confused  him  greatly,  and  he 
said  to  himself:  “Be  the  loife  of  me  it  was  only  just 
there  that  I saw  the  thrack,  and  it’s  sure  I am  that  she 
could  not  have  flew  away.  Oh!  here  it  is  again,  and 
begorra  I belave  it’s  the  thrack  of  a white  woman,  for 
sure  I am  that 
no  dhurty  spal- 
peen of  an  Injun 
could  iver  make 
such  a dainty 
thrack  as  that. 

Sure  and  I’ll  look 
in  that  bunch  of 
brush,  perhaps 
it’s  there  she  is, 
the  poor  cray- 
ther.  ” 

He  made  his 
way  up  to  the 
brush  cautiously 
with  a pistol  in 
each  hand,  and 
just  as  he  peered 
in  two  Indians 
sprang  upon  him 
and  grabbed  his 
arms,  w h i ch 
caused  his  pistols 
both  to  be  discharged  up  in  the  air.  They  quickly  bore 
poor  Maloney  to  the  ground  and  soon  had  him  bound 


They  quickly  bore  poor  Mike  to  the  ground. 


458 


TIED  TO  A STAKE. 


hand  and  foot.  They  then  drove  a stake  into  the  ground 
and  tied  Mike  to  it,  and  began  to  gather  brush  for  the 
fire.  This  did  not  suit  him  a bit,  but  all  he  could  do  was 
to  hurl  an  avalanche  of  words  at  them,  which,  of  course, 
they  did  not  understand  and  to  which  they  paid  no  heed. 

“Ah,  ye  dhurty  divils, ” said  Mike.  “Ye’s  have  took 
me  pistols  both  away  from  me.  Ye’s  know  I can’t  hurt 
ye’s  without  me  guns,  so  what’s  the  use  in  ye’s  tyin’  me 
like  a hog,  ye  dhurty  blackguards.  Let  me  loose  and 
Oi’ll  be  afther  lavin’  ye’s.  Oi’ll  do  it  be  the  boots  that 
hung  on  Chatham’s  Hill.  I do  belave  they  are  goin’  to 
burn  me  alive.  O,  ye  bloody  haythens;  let  me  loose 
and  Oi’ll  fight  the  pair  of  ye’s  if  ye’s  have  got  me  pistols.” 

The  Indians  by  this  time  had  the  fire  started,  but 
Mike  still  retained  his  nerve,  cussing  the  red  fiends  by 
all  the  powers  in  the  Irish  vocabulary. 

Davis  and  I were  pushing  on  with  all  possible  speed 
in  the  direction  of  the  place  we  expected  to  find  Ma- 
loney’s trail,  when  we  heard  two  pistol  shots  in  quick 
succession  further  up  the  canyon,  so  we  put  our  horses 
down  to  their  utmost  in  the  direction  from  whence  the 
sound  of  the  shots  came. 

After  running  about  two  miles  we  came  in  sight  of  a 
small  fire  a short  distance  away  that  seemed  to  be  but 
just  kindled.  We  dashed  up  at  full  speed  and  found 
Mike  tied  to  a stake  and  two  Apaches  piling  brush  on 
the  fire.  We  fired  at  the  Indians  through  the  gathering 
darkness,  but  only  killed  one,  and  the  other  one  made 
off  about  as  fast  as  you  ever  saw  an  Indian  go.  Jim 
kicked  the  fire  away  from  Mike  and  cut  his  bonds  before 
he  was  burned  to  speak  of.  1 asked  him  how  he  came 


Mike  rescued. 


459 


to  be  taken  prisoner  by  just  two  Apaches,  and  his  story 
ran  like  this: 

“Oi’ll  tell  ye,  Captain,  it  was  on  that  sage-brush  hill 
there  while  I was  ridin’  along  I saw  a thrack  in  the  sand 
and  sure  I was  that  it  was  not  the  thrack  of  an  Injun  for 
it  was  a dainty  little  thing  and  the  hollow  of  the  foot 
didn’t  make  a hole  in  the  ground  like  an  Apache’s  and 
Apaches  niver  wear  shoes,  aither.  Well,  I got  off  me 
horse  and  stharted  to  follow  the  thrack,  and  whin  I got 
to  that  bunch  of  brush  the  dhurty  rid  divils  sprang  out 
on  me  like  a pair  of  hounds,  tied  me  hands  and  fate,  and 
was  tryin’  to  burn  me  aloive  whin  ye’s  came  up.” 

‘‘Well,  Mike,”  said  I,  holding  up  the  scalp  of  the  In- 
dian we  had  killed,  “here  is  one  Indian  that  will  not 
bother  you  again,  but  be  more  careful  next  time.” 

We  were  all  of  the  opinion  that  there  was  a woman 
alone  somewhere  in  those  hills  that  had  escaped  from 
the  Indians  when  they  burned  the  emigrant  train,  and  we 
decided  to  keep  up  the  search  until  morning;  so  we 
agreed  on  the  following  search:  To  separate  about  a 
quarter  of  a mile  apart,  and  to  commence  circling  a large 
hill  or  knob  close  by  covered  by  a dense  growth  of  sage- 
brush that  in  some  places  was  as  high  as  a man’s  head 
when  he  was  on  a horse,  and  every  few  rods  to  hallow, 
that  in  case  she  was  secreted  around  there  in  hearing  of 
us  she  would  answer,  and  in  case  any  one  found  her  he 
was  to  fire  two  shots  in  quick  succession,  when  the  other 
two  would  go  to  him  immediately. 

We  made  almost  the  entire  circuit  of  the  hill,  hallow- 
ing every  little  while,  when  I finally  thought  I heard  a 
faint  answer.  I called  again  and  then  listened  intently, 


460 


ALONE  IN  A 


and  I was  sure  I heard  an  answer,  after  which  I turned 
and  rode  in  the  direction  from  which  the  answer  came. 
After  riding  a few  rods  I called  again,  when  I heard  the 
faint  answer  quite  near,  and  I soon  found  a young  girl  of 
about  eighteen  years.  She  was  overjoyed  at  seeing  me, 
but  was  too  weak  to  rise.  I asked  how  she  came  there, 
and  she  said  that  the  train  in  which  her  family  was  trav- 


eling had  been  attacked  by  the  Indians.  The  people,  or 
a part  of  them,  had  been  murdered  and  the  wagons 
burned,  she  and  her  younger  sister  had  been  taken  pris- 
oners, and  when  night  came  they  were  tied  hand  and 
foot  and  staked  to  the  ground,  and  all  laid  down  for  the 
night. 

‘‘After  we  thought  that  the  Indians  were  all  asleep/’ 


DESOLATE  COUNTRY. 


461 


she  said,  “I  made  a desperate  effort  and  freed  one  of  my 
hands,  although  it  cost  me  a great  deal  of  pain.  After 
I was  free  I soon  released  my  sister  and  we  then  ran  for 
our  lives.  We  had  got  but  a short  distance  when  the 
Indians  discovered  our  absence,  and  raising  the  yell, 
started  after  us.  My  sister  outran  me  and  I soon  hid  in 
a little  thicket  and  they  missed  me,  but  I fear  they  have 
overtaken  her. 

I asked  her  what  her  name  was  and  she  said  it  was 
Mary  Gordon,  and  her  father’s  name  was  Henry  Gordon. 
He  was  sheriff  of  their  county  in  Illinois  for  two  years 
before  starting  west.  I now  fired  the  two  shots  to  call 
Jim  and  Mike,  and  they  were  not  long  in  getting  there. 

As  soon  as  Mike  came  up  he  said:  “Sure,  Captain, 

and  wasn  t I after  tellin’s  ye’s  that  it  was  no  bloody  spal- 
peen of  an  Apache’s  thrack  that  I be  follerin’  lasht 
avenin’?” 

Miss  Gordon  now  seemed  just  to  have  realized  that 
she  was  alone  in  a wild  country,  for  she  wrung  her  hands 
and  said:  “Oh!  what  shall  I do  in  this  desolate  country 

without  a relative  ora  friend;  it  would  have  been  better 
if  I had  been  killed  when  my  poor  father  and  mother 
were.  O,  kind  sir,  what  will  I do?”  and  she  sobbed  as 
if  her  heart  would  break. 

I told  her  not  to  grieve,  that  we  would  protect  her 
and  see  that  she  got  safely  to  civilization,  and  that  we 
would  also  try  to  find  her  sister.  I asked  her  if  she  was 
not  very  hungry  and  she  said  she  was,  as  she  had  eaten 
nothing  for  almost  thirty-six  hours.  At  that  Mike  said: 
‘‘Sure,  Captain,  it’s  meself  that  has  a pairt  of  me  rations 
lift,  and  Oi’ll  go  and  get  it  for  the  poor  crayther,  and 


462 


Mike  finds 


Oi’ll  bring  the  horses  at  the  same  toime,”  and  he  started 
off  muttering  to  himself,  “Ah,  them  Apaches,  the  dhirty 
divils;  I’d  like  to  kill  ivery  wan  o’  thim.” 

He  soon  returned  with  the  horses,  and  handing  me 
his  rations,  he  said:  “Sure,  Captain,  it’s  mesilf  that 
thinks  I’d  better  be  afther  takin’  a look  around  here- 
abouts, as  thim  durty  haythens  might  be  afther  playin’ 
us  the  same  game  as  they  did  me  last  evenin’.”  I told 
him  it  was  a good  scheme,  that  we  might  go  up  to  the 
top  of  the  hill  and  take  a look  as  it  was  then  most  day, 
and  if  there  were  any  Indians  around  they  would  be  astir 
and  that  he  had  better  let  Jim  Davis  go  with  him,  but  he 
said  no,  for  Jim  to  stay  with  me  and  the  young  lady  and 
see  that  no  “bloody  blackguard  of  an  Apache  got  her 
again,”  so  I cautioned  him  to  keep  his  ears  and  eyes 
open,  and  he  struck  out. 

When  Mike  had  gone  Miss  Gordon  turned  to  me  and 
asked  my  name.  I told  her  my  name  was  William  F. 
Drannan,  but  I was  better  known  on  the  plains  as  the 
Boy  Scout. 

“Oh,  kind  sir,”  she  said,  “are  you  the  Boy  Scout?” 
I have  often  heard  my  father  speak  of  you,  and  he  said 
you  were  liable  to  put  in  an  appearance  when  one  least 
expected  it.  I thought  of  you  a thousand  times  yester- 
day and  to-night,  but  I had  no  idea  that  you  were  in  a 
thousand  miles  of  here.” 

I told  her  that  I was  at  present  scouting  for  Gen. 
Crook,  who  was  at  Fort  Yuma,  but  that  Lieut.  Jackson, 
with  three  companies  of  soldiers,  was  stationed  but  a few 
miles  west  of  us. 

We  had  been  waiting  for  Mike  Maloney’s  return  about 


ANOTHER  GIRL. 


463 


two  hours  and  were  beginning  to  get  uneasy  about  his 
delay  and  speculating  as  to  what  caused  his  absence  so 
long,  when  we  heard  two  pistol  shots.  This  was  always 
our  signal  to  call  a companion;  so  telling  Jim  to  look 
after  the  young  lady,  I swung  myself  into  the  saddle  and 
was  off  like  the  wind  in  the  direction  from  whence  the 
call,  as  I supposed  it  to  be,  came.  It  was  now  getting 
daylight,  and  when  I got  to  the  top  of  the  hill  I looked 
down  to  the  south  and  I could  see  a fire.  I did  not  hes- 
itate, but  went  down  that  slope  through  the  heavy  sage- 
brush like  smoke  through  the  woods.  As  soon  as  I was 
near  enough  to  distinguish  objects  around  the  fire  I saw 
Mike  bending  over  some  object,  and  when  I rode  up  to 
him,  to  my  great  surprise  and  delight,  I saw  it  was  a 
young  girl.  Mike  was  beside  himself  with  excitement. 

It  appeared  from  his  story  that  upon  reaching  the 
top  of  the  hill  after  he  had  left  us  he  came  in  sight  of  the 
fire  and  concluded  to  investigate;  so  riding  down  as  near 
as  he  thought  safe  he  tied  his  horse  and  commenced 
crawling.  He  soon  saw  that  there  were  but  two  Indians 
and  to  his  horror  he  saw  that  they  had  a white  girl  tied 
to  a stake  and  were  preparing  to  burn  her.  He  crept  up 
to  within  about  twenty  yards  of  them  and  fired,  killing 
one  of  the  Apaches,  and  as  the  other  one  turned  to  see 
what  was  up  he  fired  again,  killing  the  other  one;  then 
brandishing  his  pistol  over  his  head  he  dashed  up  to  the 
fire,  exclaiming:  “O,  ye  murtherin  bastes,  I’m  avin  wid 

ye’s  now;  Oi’ll  learn  ye’s  how  to  stake  a poor  divil  down 
to  the  ground  and  thin  try  to  burn  him.”  Then  he  went 
up  to  the  girl,  cut  her  loose  from  the  stake,  and  she 
raised  up  in  a sitting  posture.  “Would  ye’s  moind  let- 


464 


THE  TWO  SISTERS 


tin’  me  help  ye  to  yer  fate,  Miss?”  said  Mike.  * ‘O,  I’m 
so  tired  and  weak  I can’t  stand,”  said  the  girl.  ‘‘They 
have  almost  killed  me  dragging  me  over  the  cactus.” 

Just  as  I came  in  sight  Mike  fired  two  shots  as  a sig- 
nal for  us  to  come  to  him,  but  I was  there  almost  before 
the  echoes  died  away  in  the  mountains.  When  I rode 
up  Mike  was  most  beside  himself  with  glee;  his  tongue 
ran  like  a phonograph,  and  within  five  minutes  he 
had  given  me  the  history  of  the  whole  transaction  and 
had  invoked  a curse  on  the  whole  Apache  tribe  from  all 
the  saints  in  the  calender. 

I told  Mike  that  we  had  best  get  the  girl  on  one  of 
our  horses  at  once  and  be  off  to  where  Jim  and  the  other 
girl  were,  and  from  there  on  to  headquarters,  for  there 
was  no  telling  how  many  more  of  the  red  devils  there 
might  be  lurking  around.  “Faith,  Captain,  and  it’s 
right  ye  are  this  toime,  too,”  said  Mike,  “and  it’s  me 
own  horse  she  can  ride,  the  poor  damsel.”  So  saying 
he  led  his  horse  up  and  we  assisted  the  young  lady  to 
mount. 

As  soon  as  we  were  fairly  started  I asked  the  girl  her 
name  and  she  said  it  was  Maggie  Gordon.  She  also 
spoke  of  her  sister  having  been  taken  prisoner  along  with 
her,  and  when  I told  her  that  Mary  was  safe,  her  joy 
knew  no  bounds.  This  news  so  revived  her  spirits  that 
she  talked  quite  freely  with  us  on  the  way  over  to  where 
Jim  Davis  and  the  other  girl  were.  When  we  got  to 
near  where  they  were  Mary  looked  up  and  saw  us  and 
exclaimed,  “Oh!  there’s  Maggie!”  and  when  they  met 
there  was  the  most  pathetic  scene  of  greeting  I ever  wit- 
nessed. 


AGAIN  UNITED. 


465 


As  soon  as  they  had  a good  cry  in  each  others  arms 
we  gave  Maggie  something  to  eat,  after  which  we  put 
the  girls,  one  on  Jim  Davis’  horse  and  one  on  mine,  and 
headed  for  camp,  arriving  there  in  the  afternoon. 

We  did  not  go  to  the  late  emigrant  camp,  as  we 


Oh!  there’s  Maggie. 


could  do  nothing  toward  burying  the  dead,  burdened  as 
we  were  by  the  two  young  women,  so  Lieut.  Jackson 
sent  a platoon  of  soldiers  out  to  do  that  last  act  of 
charity. 

There  were  four  families  besides  the  Gordon  family 
murdered,  and  those  two  young  ladies  were  the  only 
ones  that  escaped,  so  far  as  we  knew.  When  the  next 


466 


ESCORTING  EMIGRANTS. 


emigrant  train  came  along  we  sent  the  Misses  Gordon  on 
to  Fort  Yuma,  and  from  there  they  drifted  on  into  Cali- 
fornia, and  I never  heard  of  them  again. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


Massacre  of  the  Davis  family. — A hard  ride  and 

SWIFT  RETRIBUTION. A PITIFUL  STORY. BURIAL  OF 

THE  DEAD. 1 AM  SICK  OF  THE  BUSINESS. 


We  remained  here  for  some  weeks  yet,  piloting  and 
escorting  emigrants  through  the  mountains,  but  having 
very  few  scraps  with  the  Indians.  When  the  emigrants 
quit  coming  and  our  provisions  had  run  very  low,  we 
made  preparations  to  return  to  Fort  Yuma.  But  to 
make  sure  that  no  more  of  the  crawling  trains  would  be 
winding  along  that  way  this  season,  myself  and  another 
scout,  with  two  days’  rations,  started  on  a little  scurry 
eastward.  But  a tour  of  four  days  developed  no  further 
sign  of  emigrants  or  Indians,  so  the  scout  and  I returned 
to  find  the  command  all  ready  to  start.  We  were  just 
about  taking  up  the  line  of  march  for  Yuma  when  a 
teamster  on  his  way  to  Phoenix  with  a load  of  freight, 


the  Davis  massacre. 


467 


drifted  into  camp  and  informed  us  to  our  horror,  that 
the  Indians  had  attacked  the  Davis  ranch,  killed  the  old 
man  and  his  two  sons,  treated  the  old  mother  and  the 
two  daughters  shamefully,  and  then  pillaged  the  place 
and  drove  off  all  the  stock. 

I had  no  sooner  ridden  into  camp  that  night  than  an 
orderly  came  and  took  my  horse  and  said:  “Lieut.  Jack- 
son  wishes  to  see  you  at  his  tent  immediately.”  I knew 
that  there  was  something  very  unusual  the  matter  or  he 
would  not  have  called  me  to  his  quarters  until  I had  had 
my  supper.  On  approaching  his  tent  I saw  that  he  was 
much  excited.  He  told  me  what  was  up,  and  said  it 
was  strange  the  Indians  would  come  down  there  that 
season  of  the  year  and  commit  such  depredations  as  that. 
After  he  had  laid  the  whole  matter  before  me  just  as  he 
had  it  from  the  teamster,  he  said:  “Send  the  very  best 
men  you  have  on  their  trail.”  I told  him  I would  go 
myself  and  take  George  and  two  other  men  with  me. 

I was  convinced  before  finishing  my  talk  with  him 
that  it  was  not  the  Indians  that  had  committed  the  dep- 
redation, but  that  I kept  to  myself. 

Just  as  I walked  out  of  the  Lieutenants  tent  I met 
George  and  told  him  that  we  had  a long  night’s  ride  be- 
fore us,  to  pick  out  two  of  the  best  men  we  had,  also  to 
take  the  best  horses  we  had,  and  to  change  my  saddle  to 
Black  Bess  from  the  horse  that  I had  been  riding  that 
day.  I also  gave  orders  to  have  everything  in  readiness 
by  the  time  I was  through  supper,  which  did  not  take 
long,  although  I was  very  hungry.  The  boys  were  all 
on  hand  by  the  time  I was  through  eating,  and  we 
mounted  and  rode  away  for  the  Davis  ranch.  The  way 


468 


A PITIFUL  SIGHT. 


we  had  to  go  to  reach  the  ranch  was  about  twenty  miles 
down  grade  and  inclined  to  be  sandy  all  the  way.  We 
were  all  well  mounted,  and  we  scarcely  broke  a gallop 
until  we  reached  the  Davis  place. 

A pitiful  sight  was  there.  The  old  lady  and  her  three 
daughters  had  carried  the  old  gentleman  and  two  boys 
into  the  house  and  laid  them  out  on  benches  in  the  best 
manner  possible,  and  to  say  that  it  was  a heart-rending 
scene  does  not  begin  to  express  it. 

When  I stepped  into  the  house  Mrs.  Davis  pointed  to 
the  dead  bodies  and  said:  ‘‘Captain,  if  you  will  avenge 
their  death  I will  be  a friend  to  you  as  long  as  I live.” 
I told  her  that  I would  do  all  I could,  that  I was  in  a 
great  hurry  to  get  on  the  trail  of  the  perpetrators,  and  I 
would  like  her  to  give  me  all  the  information  she  could 
relative  to  the  matter. 

She  then  led  the  way  into  a private  room  and  related 
the  whole  circumstance,  telling  me  how  the  Indians  had 
come  there,  decoyed  her  husband  and  two  sons  to  the 
barn  and  there  shot  them  down,  then  rushed  to  the 
house,  and  before  the  inmate  had  time  to  shut  and  bar 
the  door,  came  into  the  house,  caught  and  tied  her  to  the 
bed  post,  and  then  disgraced  her  three  daughters  in  her 
presence.  Then  they  gathered  up  all  the  horses  and 
cattle  about  the  ranch  and  drove  them  across  the  desert. 

In  the  direction  she  said  they  had  started  it  was 
eighty-four  miles  to  water,  but  I did  not  believe  for  a 
moment  that  they  would  attempt  to  cross  the  desert  in 
that  direction. 

After  I had  gained  all  the  information  I could,  I said: 
“Mrs.  Davis,  those  were  not  Indians,  but  Greasers  or 


‘Captain,  if  you  will  avenge  their  deaths  1 will  be  a friend  to  you  as 
long  as  you  live.''  Page  4< 


ON  THE  TRAIL. 


469 


Mexicans,  and  I will  capture  them  before  twenty-four 
hours  if  I live.” 

I started  one  man  back  to  camp  to  tell  Lieut.  Jack- 
son  to  take  the  trail  direct  for  Aw-wa-col-i-enthy,  which 
in  English  means  hot  water,  (Agua  Caliente). 

Lieut.  Jackson  had  become  over  anxious  as  soon  as 
we  left  and  had  started  after  us  with  one  company  of 
cavalry.  My  messenger  met  him  five  miles  from  the 
Davis  ranch,  and  there  he  turned  in  the  direction  of 
Agua  Caliente. 

In  starting  out  from  the  ranch  I took  the  trail  of  the 
stock,  and  after  we  had  gone  quite  a distance  I called 
George  to  my  side  and  told  him  it  was  not  Indians  we 
were  following,  but  a crowd  of  cut-throat  Greasers,  and 
we  didn’t  want  to  have  a fight  with  them  until  the  sol- 
diers arrived  if  we  could  help  it,  but  that  we  would  fight 
them  before  we  would  allow  them  to  escape. 

I had  never  told  George  until  now  what  all  they  had 
done,  and  when  I related  to  him  the  whole  affair  he  said: 
“We  will  not  allow  one  of  them  to  escape.”  We  could 
see  that  they  were  turning  in  the  direction  of  Agua  Ca- 
liente and  had  made  this  circuit  merely  to  throw  any  one 
off  that  might  attempt  to  follow. 

This  was  what  I thought  when  I dispatched  the  Lieu- 
tenant to  come  to  Hot  Springs. 

It  was  twenty-seven  miles  straight  through  on  the 
road  from  the  Davis  ranch  to  Agua  Caliente,  but  the 
way  we  went  that  night  we  supposed  it  was  about  forty 
miles,  making  sixty  miles  that  we  had  to  ride  that  night, 
while  the  soldiers  if  they  started  direct  fiom  camp  would 
only  have  to  travel  thirty-five  miles. 


470 


FIND  THEIR  CAMP. 


Finally  the  trail  made  a direct  turn  for  Agua  Caliente 
and  I again  “telegraphed”  the  Lieutenant  to  hurry  up 
with  all  possible  speed  and  try  to  reach  the  place  before 
daylight,  my  object  being  to  catch  them  in  camp,  as  our 
horses  would  be  too  tired  to  run  them  down  after  they 
were  mounted  on  fresh  horses. 

My  second  messenger  did  not  see  the  Lieutenant  at 
all  on  the  road,  for  unbeknown  to  me  he  had  started 
from  headquarters  soon  after  we  did,  and  after  having 
met  my  first  courier,  had  pushed  on  with  all  possible 
haste. 

When  George  and  I were  within  a mile  and  a half  of 
Agua  Caliente  we  met  some  of  the  stock  feeding  leisurely 
along  in  the  direction  of  their  old  range.  We  examined 
them  closely  and  found  that  they  were  the  Davis  stock. 

We  had  not  gone  much  farther  until  Black  Bess 
raised  her  head,  stuck  her  ears  forward  and  commenced 
sniffing  the  air.  I told  George  to  watch  her,  and  he 
said:  “We  must  be  near  them.”  So  we  dismounted, 
took  off  our  spurs,  picketed  our  horses,  and  started 
cautiously  towards  their  camp. 

When  we  were  within  three  hundred  yards  we  could 
see  the  glimmer  of  their  fires  that  had  not  entirely  gone 
out,  evidence  that  they  had  not  gone  to  bed  till  late. 
We  crawled  so  near  that  we  could  see  the  outlines  of  the 
fiends  lying  around  the  few  coals  that  were  yet  smolder- 
ing. Now  and  then  a chunk  would  blaze  up  as  if  to 
show  the  exact  positions  of  the  murderers. 

After  satisfying  ourselves  that  this  was  the  party  we 
were  in  pursuit  of,  we  returned  to  our  horses. 

I told  Jones  to  mount  his  horse  and  not  spare  him 


THE  SOLDIERS  ARRIVE. 


471 


until  he  met  the  soldiers;  and  to  hurry  them  up  so  we 
could  catch  the  Greasers  in  bed;  and  I said  to  him  as  he 
was  mounting:  ‘‘If  you  do  not  return  with  the  soldiers 
before  daylight  I will  take  chances  of  holding  them  here 
with  Black  Bess  until  you  do  return.”  But  he  had  not 
gone  more  than  two  miles  and  a half  when  he  met  the 
soldiers  coming  in  a stiff  gallop. 

George  reported  that  we  had  the  outlaws  located, 
and  the  Lieutenant  gave  orders  for  the  soldiers  to  muffle 
their  spurs  and  sabres  and  to  be  quick  about  it.' 

I did  not  have  to  wait  long  until  Black  Bess  told  me 
they  were  coming,  for  when  they  got  near  me  I could  not 
keep  her  still. 

Upon  the  arrival  of  the  soldiers  I told  Lieut.  Jackson 
the  particulars  of  the  murder  as  given  to  me  by  Mrs. 
Davis,  and  also  where  the  murderers  were.  He  divided 
his  men,  sending  fifty  around  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
camp,  giving  them  half  and  hour  to  make  the  circuit, 
George  piloting  them,  and  I the  other  fifty.  When  the 
time  was  up  we  rode  down,  both  squads  arriving  almost 
at  the  same  time.  Just  one  word  from  the  Lieutenant 
and  the  Greasers  were  surrounded,  and  us  with  our  pis- 
tols drawn. 

The  outlaws  seemed  to  be  sound  asleep,  but  when 
we  commenced  to  close  in  on  them  they  woke,  and  the 
first  one  that  jumped  to  his  feet  had  his  pistol  in  his 
hand,  but  when  he  looked  around  and  saw  the  situation 
he  dropped  his  pistol  before  the  Lieutenant  had  time  to 
tell  him  to  drop  it. 

It  was  not  yet  daylight,  but  their  being  a very  bright 
moon,  one  could  see  first  rate.  All  the  Mexicans  were  soon 


472 


Greasers  captured. 


their  feet  and  begging  for  their  lives.  Lieut.  Jackson 
being  able  to  speak  Mexican  asked  if  any  one  in  their 
crowd  could  speak  English,  but  they  said  they  could  not 
speak  a word  in  that  language.  He  then  asked  them  in 
Spanish  who  their  Captain  was,  and  a big,  rough,  greasy 
looking  fellow  said  he  was  the  Captain. 

The  Lieutenant  then  told  him  to  form  his  mrn  in 
line  out  on  the  road,  saying:  “I  will  give  you  five  min- 

utes to  prepare  to  die.”  He  then  turned  to  his  oiderly 
and  told  him  to  relieve  them  of  their  arms,  and  they 
gave  them  up  without  a word  of  protest.  He  then  told 
them  all  to  stand  in  a line  and  when  the  five  minutes 
were  up  they  must  die.  During  all  this  time  their  Cap- 
tain was  pleading  for 
their  lives  and  mak- 
ing all  kinds  of  prom- 
ises, but  the  Lieuten- 
ant turned  a deaf 
ear  to  them,  not 
even  answering  them. 

When  the  five  min- 
utes were  up  the  or- 
der was  given,  4 ‘Pla- 
toon No.  i,  front 
face.  Make  ready. 
Take  aim.  Fire.” 
And  all  of  the  seoun- 
Captain  of  the  Greasers.  drels  fell  at  the  first 

round,  although  some 
i them  had  to  be  shot  the  second  time  to  get  them  out 
their  misery. 


the  Davis’  funeral. 


473 


This  being  done  they  were  taken  about  a hundred 
yards  away  and  buried  in  the  sand 

By  that  time  it  was  daylight  and  Lieut.  Jackson  made 
a detail  of  twenty-four  men  to  assist  George  and  I in 
driving  the  stock  back  to  the  Davis  ranch.  The  rest  of 
the  company  returned  to  headquarters,  but  went  by  way 
of  the  Davis  ranch  to' assist  in  burying  the  bodies  of  the 
old  gentleman  and  the  two  sons.  Lieut.  Jackson  told 
me  that  when  he  arrived  at  the  ranch  and  saw  the  dead 
bodies  and  heard  the  sad  story  of  the  wife  and  mother 
and  of  her  daughters,  he  said  it  was  more  than  he  could 
stand.  He  made  a detail  of  six  men  to  dig  the  graves 
and  he  returned  to  headquarters  and  moved  the  entire 
command  down  there  and  they  all  attended  the  funeral. 

After  the  funeral  was  over  Mrs.  Davis  called  me  to 
one  side  and  said:  ‘ ‘There  is  one  more  favor  I wLh  to 

ask  of  you  before  you  leave.”  I asked  her  what  it  was. 
She  said  as  she  was  keeping  a boarding-house  she  would 
have  to  keep  travelers,  and  that  she  would  like  to  have 
us  leave  a man  to  look  after  the  stock  until  such  time  as 
she  could  get  some  one  to  work  for  her.  I told  he?  that 
if  the  Lieutenant  did  not  object  I would  leave  a man 
with  her  that  would  take  as  much  interest  in  the  stock 
as  if  they  were  his  own,  and  that  she  would  find  Hm  a 
perfect  gentleman  at  all  times. 

I called  Lieut.  Jackson  aside  and  mentioned  the  mat- 
ter to  him.  He  told  me  to  leave  a man  and  that  he 
would  also  detail  a man  to  stay,  which  he  did  ther  and 
there.  I asked  George  Jones  to  stay,  which  he  wa?  will- 
ing to  do. 

Mrs.  Davis  asked  us  to  send  her  a good,  trust*  tnan 


474 


QUIT  SCOUTING. 


and  she  would  pay  him  good  wages,  and  she  said  she 
would  write  to  her  brother,  who,  when  he  came  out, 
would  close  up  her  business  there  as  quickly  as  possible, 
and  they  would  return  to  the  East. 

Arriving  at  the  fort  and  finding  no  idle  men,  Lieut. 
Jackson  wrote  to  San  Francisco  for  a man,  and  in  about 
three  weeks  he  came,  and  he  proved  to  be  a good  one, 
as  Mrs.  Davis  told  me  several  years  afterwards. 

It  was  nearly  a month  after  we  arrived  at  the  fort  be- 
fore George  Jones  came.  The  next  day  after  he  arrived 
he  told  me  that  he  had  just  received  a letter  from  his 
father,  who  was  then  living  somewhere  in  the  state  of 
Illinois,  and  had  written  him  to  come  home  as  he  wanted 
to  emigrate  to  Oregon  the  following  spring,  and  wanted 
George  to  pilot  the  train  across  the  plains  and  over  the 
mountains  to  the  country  where  big  red  apples  and  pretty 
girls  were  said  to  grow  in  such  abundance. 

George  had  made  up  his  mind  to  accede  to  the  wishes 
of  his  father,  and  as  we  had  been  there  twenty-two 
months  and  both  were  tired  of  the  business,  and  having 
made  up  my  mind  to  quit  the  scouting  field,  I talked  the 
matter  over  with  George  for  two  days  and  concluded  to 
accompany  him  to  San  Francisco;  so  we  went  to  Gen. 
Crook  and  told  him  we  were  going  to  quit  and  go  away. 

He  asked  what  was  the  matter,  if  anything  had  gone 
wrong.  We  told  him  there  was  nothing  wrong  at  all, 
but  we  were  tired  of  the  business  and  had  made  up  our 
minds  to  quit.  He  said  he  was  very  sorry  to  have  us 
leave,  but  if  we  had  made  up  our  minds  to  that  effect 
there  was  no  use  saying  any  more.  He  asked  me  how 
many  head  of  horses  George  and  I had.  I told  him  that 


off  for  San  Francisco. 


475 


there  had  been  over  one  hundred  head  of  horses  cap- 
tured, and  that  many  of  them  had  been  used  by  the  sol- 
diers all  summer,  but  if  he  would  let  George  and  I select 
thirty-five  head  from  the  band  of  captured  horses  he 
could  have  the  rest  of  them.  This  he  agreed  to,  so 
there  was  no  falling  out  over  that. 

Having  settled  up  with  Gen.  Crook  and  everything 
arranged,  in  a few  days  we  were  ready  to  start. 

The  day  before  our  departure  for  San  Francisco  we 
went  around  and  visited  with  all  the  boys  in  blue,  telling 
them  we  were  going  to  leave,  and  that  for  good.  They 
expressed  their  regrets,  but  bade  us  bon-voyage  and  good 
luck  for  the  future. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


Black  Bess  becomes  popular  in  San  Francisco. — A 

FAILURE  AS  RANCHER. BUYING  HORSES  IN  OREGON. 

The  Klamath  Marsh. — Captain  Jack  the  Modoc. 


George  Jones  and  I pulled  out  for  San  Francisco,  via 
Los  Angeles,  this  being  the  regular  mail  line  at  this  time, 
and  we  made  the  trip  to  the  City  of  the  Golden  Gate  in- 
side of  a month. 


476 


George  Jones  leaves. 


As  soon  as  we  arrived  at  San  Francisco  we  commencd 
selling  our  horses  at  private  sale.  We  put  up  at  what 
was  known  as  the  Fashion  Stable,  which  was  kept  by  a 
man  by  the  name  of  Kinnear,  whom  we  found  to  be  a 
perfect  gentleman,  and  who  rendered  us  almost  invalu- 
able assistance  in  disposing  of  our  horses.  This  was  the 
first  stable  that  was  built  on  Market  street.  As  soon  as 
our  horses  were  sold  Jones  boarded  the  steamer  for  New 
York.  When  we  separated  here,  having  been  so  inti- 
mately acquainted  for  so  long,  the  separation  was  almost 
like  that  of  two  brothers,  and  we  had  not  the  least  idea 
that  we  would  ever  meet  again  in  this  world. 

I remained  in  the  city  three  months,  not  knowing 
what  to  do  or  where  to  go.  During  this  time  I spent 
much  of  it  in  training  Black  Bess,  as  I found  her  to  be  a 
very  intelligent  animal,  and  she  would  follow  me  like  a 
dog  wherever  I would  go  when  she  had  the  saddle  on, 
and  during  that  winter  I taught  her  to  perform  many 
tricks,  such  as  to  lie  down,  kneel  down,  count  ten,  and 
tell  her  age.  I could  throw  my  gloves  or  handkerchief 
down  and  leave  her  for  hours  without  tying  her  and  she 
would  stand  there  until  I would  return,  and  no  one  could 
come  near  them  or  take  them  away,  nor  would  she  allow 
a stranger  to  put  his  hand  on  her.  One  day  I came  to 
the  barn  and  Mr.  Kinnear  asked  what  I would  take  to 
saddle  Black  Bess  up  and  let  her  follow  me  to  Wells, 
Fargo  & Co.’s  express  office  and  back  to  the  stable  again 
without  touching  her  on  the  way. 

I said:  “Mr.  Kinnear,  if  it  will  be  any  accommoda- 

tion to  you  I will  have  her  follow  me  up  there  and  back 
and  it  will  not  cost  you  anything.  ” 


Black  Bess. 


477 


“All  right,”  he  said,  “about  one  o’clock  come  to  the 
stable,  for  I have  made  a bet  of  fifty  dollars  with  a man 
from  the  country, 
that  you  could 
make  her  follow 
you  from  the  stable 
to  Wells,  Fargo  & 

Co.’s  express  office 
and  back  to 
stable  and 
touch  her.” 

Wells,  Fargo  & 

Co.  ’s  express  office 
was  a distance  of 
eight  blocks  from 
the  stable,  and  on 
my  return  I found 
quite  a crowd  there 
waiting  to  see  the 
performance.  I 
threw  the  saddle  on 
the  mare,  put  the 
bridle  on  her  just  as 
though  I was  going 
to  ride,  took  my 
whip  in  my  hand, 
and  started  down 
the  sidewalk  and 
the  mare  walked 
down  the  street.  Montgomery  street  was  always  full  of 
teams  at  this  time  of  the  day,  and  also  the  sidewalk 


I started  down  the  sidewalk  and  the  mare 
walked  down  the  street. 


478 


WINS  THE  BET. 


crowded  with  people,  but  I walked  near  the  outer  edge. 
She  would  pick  her  way  along  the  street  among  those 
teams  as  well,  apparently  as  though  I was  on  her  back 
and  at  the  same  time  would  keep  her  eyes  on  me  all  the 
time.  On  arriving  at  the  place  mentioned,  I took  my 
handkerchief  from  my  pocket  and  threw  it  down  at  the 
edge  of  the  sidewalk,  walked  into  the  office  and  remained 
five  minutes  or  more,  and  when  I came  out  she  was  still 
standing  with  her  head  over  the  handkerchief  as 
though  she  was  tied.  I picked  the  handkerchief  up, 

started 
backdown 
the  side- 
walk, and 
she  took 
the  street, 
k e e p i ng 
her  eyes 
on  me  all 
the  time 
until  w e 
reached 
the  stable. 
The  farm- 
e r was 
somewhat 
wiser,  but 

I made  her  bow  to  the  people.  about  fifty 

dollars 

short  in  actual  cash,  but  vowed  he  would  not  bet  again 
on  a man’s  own  game. 


BOUGHT  A RANCH. 


479 


On  my  return  several  different  men  asked  me  what  I 
would  take  for  her,  but  I informed  them  money  would  not 
buy  her  from  me.  Before  putting  her  in  the  stable  I 
had  her  perform  several  tricks,  and  then  bow  to  the 
crowd,  which  by  this  time  had  grown  to  more  than  a 
hundred  people. 

I had  now  lain  around  so  long  that  I had  become 
restless,  as  it  never  did  suit  me  to  loaf  about  a town,  so 
I concluded  that  I would  try  ranching.  I had  enough 
money  to  buy  a good  ranch  and  stock  it,  not  thinking 
that  it  required  any  great  amount  of  skill.  So  I started 
up  the  Sacramento  river  to  look  for  one.  After  I was 
out  most  a month,  this  now  being  the  last  of  February, 
1867,  I found  stock  looking  well  and  found  a man  that 
wanted  to  sell  out  his  stock  and  ranch.  He  had  three 
hundred  and  twenty  acres  of  land  and  one  hundred  and 
fifty  head  of  cattle,  some  chickens,  a few  hogs,  and  a 
very  few  farming  implements.  After  I had  ridden  around 
over  the  ranch  several  days  and  looked  at  his  stock,  and 
finding  the  range  good,  I asked  his  price.  He  wanted 
nine  thousand  dollars.  I believed  that  this  would  be  a 
nice  quiet  life,  and  although  I did  not  know  anything 
about  raising  stock,  yet  I thought  I would  soon  catch  on 
as  the  saying  goes,  so  I made  him  an  offer  of  eight  thou- 
sand dollars,  which  offer  he  accepted.  He  was  to  leave 
everything  on  the  ranch  but  his  bed  and  clothing  and  a 
few  little  keep-sakes  that  he  had  about  the  house. 

Now  I started  in  to  be  an  honest  rancher,  believing 
that  all  I would  have  to  do  was  to  ride  around  over  the 
range  occasionly  and  look  after  my  stock,  take  things 


480 


SOLD  MY  RANCH. 


easy,  and  let  my  stock  grow  into  money,  as  I had  heard 
it  said  that  stock  would  while  one  was  asleep. 

I stayed  on  this  place  until  the  spring  of  1872,  ranch- 
ing with  very  poor  success,  by  which  time  I had  learned 
to  a certainty  that  this  was  not  my  line. 

When  a man  came  along  and  wanted  a cow  I always 
sold  him  one.  I would  take  his  note  for  the  price  and, 
as  a rule,  that  was  all  I ever  got. 

In  the  spring  of  1875  a man  named  Glen  came  into 
that  country  from  Jefferson  county,  Missouri,  and  to  him 
I sold  my  entire  possessions.  I got  out  of  that  scrape 
by  losing  my  time  and  one  thousand  dollars  in  money, 
but  I had  five  years  of  almost  invaluable  experience  in 
ranching  and  stock-raising. 

In  those  days  this  was  what  we  called  a Mexican  stand- 
off. I lost  my  time  and  money,  but  had  my  life  left. 
Nothing  occurred  during  this  five  years  of  my  life  more 
than  the  routine  of  business  that  naturally  belongs  with 
this  kind  of  life,  so  I will  pass  over  it.  I had  such  poor 
success  ranching  that  I don’t  like  to  think  of  it  myself, 
much  less  having  it  told  in  history. 

Leaving  here  I went  to  Virginia  City,  Nevada.  This 
was  in  the  palmy  days  of  the  Comstock,  and  everything 
was  high.  After  looking  around  for  a few  days  and  see- 
ing that  horses  were  valuable,  I started  for  Jacksonville, 
Oregon,  to  buy  horses  for  the  Virginia  City  market.  On 
my  arrival  at  Jacksonville  I met  a man  by  the  name  of 
John  T.  Miller,  who  was  a thorough  horseman,  and  was 
said  to  be  a great  salesman,  which  I knew  I was  not  my- 
self. I could  buy,  but  I could  not  sell  to  advantage  like 
some  other  men. 


SELLING  HORSES. 


48I 

I formed  a partnership  with  Miller,  and  we  were  not 
long  in  gathering  up  eighty-five  head  of  horses  in  JacK- 
son  county  and  starting  to  market  with  them. 

I was  back  to  Virginia  City  in  a few  days  over  two 
months  from  the  time  I had  left  there,  and  Mr.  Miller 
proving  to  be  a thorough  salesman,  we  soon  disposed  of 
our  entire  band  at  a good  figure,  and  in  less  than  one 
month  from  the  time  we  arrived  at  Virginia  City  we  were 
on  our  way  back  to  Oregon. 

After  we  returned  to  Jacksonville  we  settled  up  and 
had  cleared  eleven  hundred  dollars  each  on  the  trip. 
That  beat  ranching  all  hollow.  Now  Mr.  Miller  proposed 
to  me  that  we  go  into  horse  raising.  He  said  he  knew 
where  there  was  a large  tract  of  swamp-land  near  Kla- 
math Lake.  Swamp  and  overflown  land  belonged  to  the 
state,  and  this  swamp-land  could  be  bought  for  a dollar 
an  acre  by  paying  twenty  cents  an  acre  down  and  twenty 
per  cent  yearly  thereafter  until  it  was  paid. 

Miller  being  a thorough  horseman,  I thought  I might 
succeed  better  in  the  horse  business  than  in  cattle.  So 
in  company  with  him,  I started  over  to  look  at  the  land, 
and  being  well  pleased  with  the  tract,  I made  applica- 
tion for  it  at  once.  This  land  was  located  just  on  the 
outer  edge  of  the  Modoc  Indian  reservatiou.  Miller  be- 
ing acquainted  with  all  the  Modocs,  he  and  I,  after  I had 
concluded  to  settle,  rode  down  to  Captain  Jack’s  wick-i- 
up,  which  was  a distance  of  two  miles  from  where  I pro- 
posed settling.  Captain  Jack  was  the  chief  of  the  Modoc 
tribe,  and  I found  him  to  be  a very  intelligent  Indian, 
and  he  made  a very  good  stagger  towards  talking  the 
English  language. 


482 


Captain  Jack. 


When  Mr.  Miller  introduced  me  to  Chief  Jack — or 
Captain  Jack  as  he  was  called — and  told  him  that  I was 
going  to  be  a neighbor  to  him,  he  said,  ‘‘All  right,  that's 
good,  and  we  be  friends,  too.”  I told  him  yes,  and  if 
the  white  men  did  not  treat  him  well  to  let  me  know  and 
I would  attend  to  it.  Jack  then  asked  Mr.  Miller  where 
Mr.  Applegate  was,  he  being  agent  for  the  Modoc  tribe, 
and  lived  in  the  neighborhood  of  Jacksonville,  Oregon. 
Miller  told  him  that  he  did  not  know.  Jack  said:  “My 
people  heap  hungry  and  Applegate  no  give  us  anything 
to  eat,  no  let  us  leave  reservation  to  hunt;  I don’t  know 
what  I do.” 

Mr.  Miller  told  Jack  that  he  would  see  Applegate 
and  tell  him  of  their  condition.  The  next  morning 
Miller  started  back  to  Jacksonville  and  I remained  on  the 
land  selected  to  be  my  future  home 

Every  few  days  Jack  would  come  to  my  place  to  ask 
my  advice  as  to  what  he  should  do,  saying:  “We  no 

got  anything  to  eat  for  three  moons  (three  months).  He 
tell  me  he  come  bring  beef.  He  no  come,  no  send  beef.” 
Finally  Jack  came  to  my  camp  one  day  and  said:  “I 

don’t  know  what  I do,  no  meat,  no  flour,  wocus  nearly 
all  gone.” 

I told  Jack  that  I would  go  home  with  him  and  see 
for  myself,  not  knowing  but  that  his  complaints  might  be 
without  foundation.  I mounted  my  horse,  and  riding 
over  with  Captain  Jack,  my  investigation  proved  to  a 
certainty  that  he  had  been  telling  me  the  truth  all  this 
time,  for  they  were  almost  destitute  of  anything  to  eat, 
there  being  nothing  in  the  entire  village  in  the  line  of 
provisions  but  a little  wocus,  or  wild  rice. 


Modoc  Indians. 


483 


Jack  said:  ‘ ‘Agent  no  come  next  week  and  bring 

something  to  eat,  I take  all  Injuns,  go  Tule  Lake  and 
catch  fish.  What  you  think?” 

I said:  ‘‘Jack,  I do  not  know  what  to  say,  but  you 

come  home  with  me  and  I will  give  you  one  sack  of  flour 
and  I have  a deer  there,  I will  give  you  half  of  that,  and 
by  the  time  you  eat  that  up  perhaps  the  agent  may  come 
with  provisions.  A few  days  later  Jack  came  to  my 
house  and  said:  “Agent  no  come  to-morrow,  I go  Tule 

Lake,  take  all  Injuns.  Plenty  fish  Tule  Lake,  easy  catch 
them.”  To  this  I did  not  reply.  I dare  not  advise  him 
to  leave  the  reservation,  and  at  the  same  time  I knew 
they  were  almost  in  a starving  condition  and  were  com- 
pelled to  do  something  or  sit  there  and  starve;  and  here 
I would  say  that  in  this  case  Captain  Jack  was  not  to 
blame  for  leaving  the  reservation.  I just  state  these  few 
facts  merely  to  show  that  while  the  Indians  are  as  a gen- 
eral rule  treacherous  and  barbarous,  at  the  same  time, 
in  many  cases  no  doubt  similar  to  this  one,  they  have 
been  blamed  more  than  was  due  them. 

As  the  old  adage  goes,  I believe  in  giving  the  devil 
his  just  dues,  and  I do  not  believe  that  Jack  would  have 
left  the  reservation  at  that  time  had  he  been  supplied 
with  provisions  sufficient  to  live  on. 

I do  not  pretend  to  say  whose  fault  this  was,  but 
merely  state  the  facts  as  I know  them. 


484 


THE  MODOCS  GO 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 


The  Modoc  war. — Gen.  Wheaton  is  held  off  by  the 
Indians. — Gen.  Canby  takes  command  and  gets 
it  worse. — Massacre  of  the  peace  commission. 


Two  weeks  later  I went  out  to  Linkville  to  buy  some 
groceries.  This  place  was  fifteen  miles  from  where  I had 
settled,  and  the  nearest  trading  post  or  settlement  to  me, 
telling  my  two  hired  men  that  I would  be  at  home  the 
next  day  or  the  day  after  at  the  outside. 

The  store  was  kept  by  a man  named  Nurse.  He  told 
me  he  had  a band  of  mares  that  he  would  sell  cheap,  and 
insisted  on  my  staying  over  night  with  him,  saying  that 
he  would  have  them  brought  in  the  day  following,  which 
I agreed  to  do,  and  the  next  morning  he  started  his  men 
out  to  look  for  the  mares.  They  did  not  get  them  gath- 
ered up  until  the  afternoon,  and  Mr.  Nurse  and  I were 
in  the  corral  looking  at  them,  when  a man  rode  up  at 
full  speed,  his  horse  foaming  all  over,  and  said  in  a very 
excited  tone  that  the  Modoc  Indians  had  gone  on  the 
war-path  and  had  murdered  most  all  the  settlers  on  Lost 
River  and  Tule  Lake,  the  latter  being  only  twenty  miles 
south  from  Linkville.  The  courier  that  brought  the  news 
to  Linkville  said  that  the  soldiers  had  come  down  to 
Tule  Lake  and  fired  on  Captain  Jack  without  any  warn- 
ing whatever,  which  we  learned  later  to  be  all  too  true. 


ON  THE  WAR-PATH 


485 


The  Indians  had  scattered  all  over  the  country,  and 
had  killed  every  white  person  they  ran  across  for  two 


V ,-v 


vvx  * ^ j r 


f 

if  ■'  --  *.,v 

\i:-4 

V - v>‘  * 

•••  ••• * 


The  Modocs  are  on  the  war-path. 


486 


ride  to  Jacksonville. 


days  and  then  fled  to  the  lava  beds.  This  put  an  end  to 
the  horse  trading.  Mr.  Nurse  said  that  some  one  would 
have  to  go  to  Jacksonville  and  report  at  once,  for  they 
were  not  strong  enough  there  io  protect  themselves 
against  the  Modocs,  but  no  one  seemed  willing  to  tackle 
the  trip,  and  I told  them  that  if  no  one  else  would  go,  I 
would  go  myself.  It  was  now  near  sundown,  and  it  was 
called  one  hundred  miles  to  Jacksonville  from  there.  I 
started  at  once,  going  part  of  the  way  over  the  wagon 
road  and  the  remainder  of  the  way  on  the  trail. 

I arrived  at  Jacksonville  the  next  morning  before  sun- 
up. The  first  man  I met  was  the  sheriff  of  the  county, 
who  was  just  coming  out  to  feed  his  horses.  I related 
my  story  to  him  in  as  few  words  as  I could,  and  told  him 
to  raise  all  the  men  he  could.  I had  my  horse  taken 
care  of  and  went  to  bed,  for  I was  very  tired,  with  direc- 
tions to  wake  me  up  in  time  to  eat  a bite  before  start- 
ing. At  four  o’clock  that  afternoon  they  woke  me,  they 
having  sixty  men  then  ready  to  start  and  one  hundred 
ready  to  follow  the  next  morning. 

Among  the  balance  who  were  ready  to  start  was  Mr. 
Miller.  When  I led  my  horse  out  he  asked  if  that  was 
the  horse  I had  ridden  over  from  Linkville.  I told  him 
I had  nothing  else  to  ride.  He  went  to  the  stable  and 
got  another  horse  and  insisted  on  my  changing  my  sad- 
dle, but  I told  him  I would  ride  my  horse  to  the  foot  of 
the  mountains  and  then  change,  which  I did. 

We  reached  Linkville  the  next  morning  at  nine 
o’clock,  and  Mr.  Nurse  gave  us  breakfast.  That  after- 
noon we  went  down  to  Tule  Lake  and  buried  three  dead 
bodies,  being  of  the  Brotherton  family,  the  father  and 


Gen.  Wheaton. 


487 


two  sons,  and  the  next  day  we  buried  four  more,  after 
which  I left  this  squad  and  returned  to  my  ranch  to  get 
my  two  hired  men  away,  which  took  me  three  days.  By 
the  time  I had  got  back  to  Linkville  the  news  had  spread 
all  over  the  country  of  the  outbreak  of  Captain  Jack  and 
the  Modoc  tribe,  and  Gen.  Wheaton  had  moved  his  en- 
tire force  down  to  the  lava  beds,  where  Captain  Jack  had 
his  forces  concentrated. 

Gen.  Ross  and  Col.  Miller  had  moved  in,  but  I do 
not  know  just  the  exact  number  of  men  they  had  in  their 
command.  After  this  scare  I could  not  get  any  men  to 
work  on  the  ranch,  so  I abandoned  it  for  the  time  being 
and  stayed  around  Linkville  about  a week,  when  I re- 
ceived a message  from  Gen.  Wheaton  to  come  to  his 
quarters  immediately.  This  message  was  carried  by  one 
of  his  orderlies.  I complied,  the  orderly  returning  with 
me.  I was  not  acquainted  with  Gen.  Wheaton,  nor  had 
I ever  seen  him  before.  When  I was  introduced  to  him 
he  asked  me  if  I knew  Captain  Jack,  chief  of  the  Modoc 
tribe.  I told  him  that  I was  well  acquainted  with  him 
and  all  of  his  men.  “Now,”  said  he,  4 ‘I’ll  tell  you  what 
I wish  to  see  you  about.  Col.  Miller  recommends  you 
very  highly  as  a scout,  and  how  would  it  suit  you  to  take 
charge  of  the  entire  scouting  force,  and  organize  them  to 
suit  yourself  and  start  in  at  once?” 

“I  said:  ‘ ‘General,  I have  tried  hard  to  quit  that 

business.  In  the  first  start  I went  at  it  for  the  glory  in 
it,  but  having  failed  to  find  that  part  of  it,  I have  be- 
come tired.  I will  not  answer  you  now,  but  to-morrow 
morning  at  nine  o’clock  I will  come  to  your  quarters, 
at  which  time  I will  have  my  mind  thoroughly  made 


488 


meet  George  Jones, 


up.”  I left  his  quarters  and  went  over  to  Col.  Miller’s. 
I told  the  Colonel  that  the  General  had  sent  for  me.  He 
urged  me  in  the  strongest  terms  to  take  hold  of  it,  say- 
ing that  there  was  not  a practical  scout  in  the  entire 
command.  Finally  I promised  him  that  I would  again 
enter  the  scouting  field. 

The  next  morning  I was  up  early  and  had  breakfast 
with  Col.  Miller.  After  obtaining  the  pass-word  I sad- 
dled Black  Bess,  and  at  nine  o’clock  was  at  Gen.  Whea- 
ton’s quarters. 

I left  Black  Bess  standing  about  twenty  paces  from 
the  General’s  tent,  took  one  of  my  gloves  and  stuck  it 
on  a bush,  and  went  in  to  see  Gen.  Wheaton.  I told 
him  that  I had  decided  to  start  in  scouting  for  him,  and 
I suppose  I was  in  his  tent  about  half  an  hour  talking 
matters  over  about  the  scouting  business.  All  being  un- 
derstood, I started  out  to  get  my  mare,  and  saw  quite  a 
crowd  had  gathered  around  her,  and  one  man  in  particu- 
lar was  trying  to  make  up  with  her.  Just  as  I stepped 
out  of  the  door  I heard  him  say,  “This  must  surely  be 
Black  Bess.  I wonder  who  owns  her  now.  ” And  until 
he  called  the  mare’s  name  I had  not  recognized  him,  and 
it  struck  me  that  it  must  be  George  Jones,  but  not  being 
sure,  I said:  “Is  that  you,  George?”  He  said:  “Yes, 

and  that’s  my  old  friend  Capt.  Drannan.  ” This  was  a 
surprise  to  us  both.  It  was  the  first  time  that  we  had 
met  since  we  separated  at  San  Francisco  in  the  fall  of 
1866,  at  which  time  we  had  both  decided  to  quit  fight- 
ing Indians,  but  here  we  both  were  again  in  the  field. 
After  a good  square  shake  and  giving  a hasty  synopsis  of 
our  experiences  during  the  time  we  bad  been  separated, 


Chief  Joseph  and  His  Warriors  on  Nez  P 


< 


CHIEF  OF  SCOUTS. 


489 


George  asked  if  I was  going  into  the  scouting  field  again. 
I told  him  that  I had  just  accepted  a position  as  chief  of 
scouts  with  Gen.  Wheaton.  I then  asked  him  what  he 
was  doing  for  a livelihood.  He  said  that  he  had  joined 
the  Oregon  Volunteers,  and  asked  me  if  I did  not  think  I 
could  get  him  relieved.  “For,”  said  he,  “I  would  rather 
work  with  you  than  any  one  else.  We  have  been  to- 
gether so  much  we  understand  each  other.” 

He  told  me  his  Captain’s  name  and  that  he  belonged 
to  Col.  Miller’s  regiment.  I did  not  lose  any  time  in 
seeing  Col.  Miller  and  telling  him  that  I would  like  very 
much  to  have  him  relieve  George  Jones  from  his  com- 
mand, as  I must  have  him  for  my  first  assistant. 

This  was  the  first  time  that  Col.  Miller  had  heard  of 
George  Jones  being  a scout,  and  he  wrote  out  the  release 
at  once  and  went  out  and  had  Gen.  Ross  sign  it  and  gave 
it  to  me. 

George  and  I went  to  work  at  once  to  organize  our 
scouting  company,  drawing  our  men  mostly  from  the  vol- 
unteers. About  the  time  that  we  were  thoroughly  organ- 
ized it  was  reported  that  the  Pah-Utes  and  the  Klamaths 
were  all  coming  to  join  Captain  Jack.  This  lava  bed 
where  Captain  Jack  was  fortified,  was  sixty  miles  from 
the  Klamath  reservation,  but  the  Pah-Utes  were  one 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  away,  and  it  both  surprised  and 
amused  me  when  those  old  officers  would  tell  me  that 
they  expected  the  Pah-Utes  any  time.  Being  afraid  of 
an  attack  from  the  rear,  we  had  to  scout  a strip  of  coun- 
try about  forty  miles  long  every  day,  and  all  the  argu- 
ments that  I could  produce  were  of  no  avail.  After  going 
through  this  routine  for  about  a month  Gen.  Wheaton 


49° 


THE  ATTACK  ON 


concluded  to  take  Captain  Jack  by  storm.  Captain  Jack 
was  there,  and  had  been  all  the  time,  in  what  was  called 
his  stronghold  in  the  lava  bed,  being  nothing  more  or 
less  than  a cave  in  the  rocks,  sixty  yards  long,  and  from 
ten  to  thirty  feet  wide,  there  being  one  place  in  the  east 
side  where  a man  could  ride  a horse  into  it,  and  numer- 
ous places  where  a man  could  enter  with  ease.  Down 
on  the  east  and  south  sides  are  numerous  holes  in  the 
rock  just  large  enough  to  shoot  through.  Captain  Jack 
had  his  entire  force  in  there,  had  killed  all  of  his  horses 
and  taken  them  in  there  for  meat,  and  through  the  Kla- 
math Indians  had  got  a good  supply  of  ammunition. 

After  Gen.  Wheaton  had  made  up  his  mind  to  take 
the  stronghold  by  storm,  he  asked  if  I could  give  a dis- 
cretion of  the  place.  Up  to  this  time  there  had  not 
been  a shot  fired  at  the  soldiers  by  the  Indians,  and  I 
bad  a number  of  times  passed  in  gunshot  of  the  main  en- 
trance, and  I know  that  the  Indians  had  recognized  me, 
but  because  I had  befriended  them  they  would  not  shoot 
at  me. 

I drew  a diagram  of  the  cave  in  the  best  style  that  I 
could,  showing  the  main  entrance  and  the  natural  port 
holes,  and  when  I submitted  it  to  the  General,  I said: 
“General,  you  can  never  take  Captain  Jack  as  long  as 
his  ammunition  lasts,  for  he  has  the  same  kind  of  guns 
that  you  have,  and  the  majority  of  his  men  have  pistols 
also,  and  all  that  he  will  have  to  do  is  to  stand  there  and 
shoot  your  men  down  as  fast  as  they  can  come.” 

But  the  General  thought  different.  The  day  was  set 
for  the  attack,  and  on  Wednesday  morning  the  storm 
was  to  commence.  The  army  had  its  camp  one  mile 

r 


Jack’s  stronghold. 


491 


from  Jack’s  stronghold,  so  the  soldiers  did  not  have  far 
to  march.  About  sunrise  the  whole  command  marched 
down  and  turned  loose  on  Jack,  and  were  soon  bombard- 
ing him  in  great  shape.  This  was  kept  up  for  three  days 
and  nights,  when  Gen.  Wheaton  withdrew,  having  lost 
sixty  men  and  something  over  twenty  wounded,  as  I was 
told  by  Col.  Miller  afterwards,  but  Jack  did  not  come 
out. 

A short  time  after  this  Gen.  Canby  came  over  and 
took  the  entire  command.  He  brought  with  him  a min- 
ister by  the  name  of  Col.  Thomas. 

The  second  day  after  Gen.  Canby  arrived  he  asked 
Gen.  Wheaton,  in  the  presence  of  quite  a number  of 
officers,  how  many  men  Captain  Jack  had  with  him. 

Gen.  Wheaton  said:  “My  chief  scout  could  tell  just 
the  number  that  he  has,  but  I think  some  sixty-three  or 
sixty-four  warriors.” 

“And  you  had  fifteen  hundred  men  in  that  three  days’ 
fight?” 

Gen.  Wheaton  said  he  had. 

“And  you  got  whipped?  There  was  bad  manage- 
ment somewho'e,”  said  Canby;  and  he  concluded 
he  would  tak//  Captain  Jack  by  storm,  but  post- 
poned it  for  a month,  this  bringing  it  into  the  foggy 
weather  in  t hdi  country,  and  in  that  time  of  the  year  it 
is  the  foggiest  country  I ever  saw.  I have  seen  it  for  a 
week  at  a time  in  the  lava  bed  that  I could  not  tell  an 
Indian  from  a rock  when  twenty  paces  away.  And  this 
was  the  kind  of  weather  Gen.  Canby  was  waiting  for. 
Ke  marched  down  to  the  lava  bed  and  placed  his  how- 
itzer on  the  hill  about  a quarter  of  a mile  from  Jack’s 


492 


ANOTHER  ATTACK. 


stronghold  and  commenced  playing  the  shell.  This  was 
done  in  order  to  give  the  infantry  a chance  to  march 
down  to  the  main  entrance  of  the  cave  and  there  shoot 
the  Indians  down  as  fast  as  they  came  out. 

Three  days  and  nights  this  was  kept  up,  but  not  an 
Indian  came  out,  and  Gen.  Canby  drew  off,  losing  over 
one  hundred  men  killed,  but  I never  knew  the  exact 
number  wounded. 

When  Gen.  Canby  found  he  could  not  take  the  Mo- 
docs  by  storm,  he  sent  to  Yreka,  Cal.,  for  a man  named 
Berry,  who  was  a particular  friend  of  Jack’s,  or  rather 
Jack  was  a particular  friend  to  him.  On  Mr.  Berry’s 
arrival  at  headquarters  Gen.  Canby  asked  him  if  he 
thought  he  dare  go  to  Captain  Jack’s  stronghold.  Mr. 
Berry  replied  that  he  would  provided  that  he  went  alone. 
I never  knew  just  what  Mr.  Berry’s  instructions  were, 
but,  however,  I accompanied  him  to  within  two  hundred 
paces  of  the  main  entrance  to  the  cave,  in  order  to  direct 
him  to  the  proper  place,  and  he  chose  his  time  to  go 
after  dark. 

I remained  there  until  after  he  returned,  which  was 
before  midnight.  A few  days  later  I learned  that  there 
was  to  be  a council  meeting  between  Gen.  Canby,  Rev. 
Col.  Thomas  and  Captain  Jack,  and  in  a conversation 
with  Col.  Miller  he  asked  me  my  opinion  in  regard  to 
the  matter.  I told  him  that  I did  not  understand  all  the 
particulars,  as  I had  heard  but  little  about  it. 

He  then  told  me  that  Gen.  Canby  and  Col.  Thomas, 
with  George  Meeks  as  interpreter  for  them,  and  Meek’s 
squaw  as  interpreter  for  Captain  Jack,  were  to  meet  Jack 
next  Sunday  morning  for  the  purpose  of  effecting  a treaty 


A CONFERENCE. 


493 


with  the  Modoc  tribe,  they  to  meet  Jack  at  a certain 
place,  without  escort  or  side  arms.  After  the  Colonel 
had  told  me  of  the  council  and  manner  in  which  they  were 
to  meet  Captain  Jack,  I said:  “Colonel,  do  you  really 
believe  they  will  go?” 

“Go,”  he  replied.  “Gen.  Canby  will  go  if  he  lives 
till  the  time  appointed  for  the  meeting.” 

I could  not  think  that, Canby  would  do  such  a thing, 
and  I told  Col.  Miller  that  there  was  one  thing  he  could 
depend  upon,  if  they  went  in  that  manner  they  would 
never  return  alive.  I also  told  him  I did  not  consider 
Mr.  Berry  showed  good  judgement  in  letting  Captain 
Jack  choose  his  own  ground  for  the  council  and  agreeing 
to  meet  him  without  escort  or  side  arms. 

That  afternoon  Gen.  Wheaton  sent  for  me,  and  I re- 
sponded to  the  call  at  once.  When  I arrived  at  the 
General’s  camp  he  opened  the  conversation  by  saying: 
“Captain,  have  you  heard  of  the  meeting  that  is  to  take 
place  between  Gen.  Canby  and  Captain  Jack?” 

I said:  “No,  General,  I had  heard  nothing  of  it.” 

This  being  a little  white  lie,  for  it  had  been  told  me  in 
confidence  by  Col.  Miller.  I asked  what  the  object  of 
the  meeting  was,  and  when  and  where  it  was  to  be. 

He  said  it  was  for  the  purpose  of  effecting  a treaty 
with  Captain  Jack,  and  was  to  be  held  in  a little  glade 
or  opening  on  the  other  side  of  Dry  Lake  canyon,  this 
being  about  one  mile  south  of  headquarters,  and  within 
a quarter  of  a mile  of  Captain  Jack’s  stronghold.  Said 
he:  “Gen.  Canby  and  Rev.  Col.  Thomas,  accompanied 

by  George  Meeks  and  his  squaw  as  interpreters,  are  to 


494 


GIVE  ADVICE. 


meet  Captain  Jack  there  without  escort  or  even  side  arms. 
Now,  Captain,  tell  me  seriously,  what  you  think  of  this 
affair.” 

I said:  ‘ 'General,  they  may  go,  but  they  will  never 

return.” 

The  General  then  asked  me  if  I would  have  a talk 


He  opened  the  conversation. 


with  Gen.  Canby.  I told  him  that  if  Gen.  Canby  asked 
for  my  opinion  in  the  matter  I would  give  iL  just  as 
frankly  as  I would  to  you,  otherwise  I had  nothing  to 
say,  for  Gen.  Canby  was  a man  that  seemed  to  feel  too 
much  elevated  to  speak  to  a scout,  except  just  to  give 
orders.  Gen.  Wheaton  told  me  that  he  would  see  Gen. 


Indian  up  a tree. 


495 


Canby  himself  and  have  a talk  with  him.  This  was  on 
Friday  previous  to  the  Sunday  on  which  they  were  to 
meet  in  council. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  it  was  reported  that 
there  had  been  Indians  seen  along  Tule  Lake.  I mounted 
my  horse  and  started  with  a platoon  of  soldiers  and  a 
sergeant,  and  when  we  had  advanced  about  twelve  miles 
I was  riding  about  two  hundred  yards  in  advance 
I saw  something  dodge  into  a bunch  of  sarvis  brush. 
Beckoning  to  the  sergeant,  he  dashed  up  to  my  side  and 
said:  4 ‘What’s  up,  Captain?” 

“I  got  a glimpse  of  something  just  as  it  ran  into  that 
patch  of  brush,  and  I think  it  was  an  Indian.” 

He  had  his  men  surround  the  brush  and  I went  to 
scare  the  Indian  out.  I searched  that  patch  of  brush 
thoroughly,  but  could  find  no  Indian  or  anything  else, 
and  the  boys  all  enjoyed  a hearty  laugh  at  my  expense. 

The  sergeant  proposed  that  we  all  have  a smoke,  so 
we  turned  our  horses  loose  to  graze.  The  sergeant  lit 
his  pipe,  threw  off  his  overcoat  and  laid  down  to  rest. 
As  he  cast  his  eyes  heavenward  in  the  direction  of  the 
top  of  the  only  pine  tree  that  stood  in  that  patch  of 
brush,  he  exclaimed:  “Captain,  I have  found  your  In- 

dian.” Of  course  we  all  commenced  looking  for  the 
Indian,  and  I asked  where  he  was,  whereupon  he  told 
me  to  look  up  in  the  pine  tree,  and  on  looking  I beheld 
an  Indian  with  whom  I was  well  acquainted,  as  he  had 
been  to  my  ranch  several  times  in  company  with  Captain 
Jack. 

I asked  him  to  come  down,  telling  him  that  I would 
protect  him  if  he  would,  but  he  would  not  utter  a word. 


496 


ANXIOUS  TO  SEE. 


nor  would  he  come  down.  I tried  for  at  least  a haL 
hour  to  induce  him  to  come  down  until  I had  exhausted 
all  the  persuasive  powers  I possessed,  but  to  no  avail. 

I told  the  sergeant  that  I had  treed  his  Indian,  and 
now  he  could  do  as  he  pleased  with  him,  and  the  ser- 
geant ordered  him  shot  down,  after  which  we  returned 
to  headquarters,  this  being  the  only  Indian  seen  on  the 
trip. 

The  next  morning  Gen.  Wheaton  sent  for  me  to  come 
to  his  quarters,  which  I did,  and  in  a conversation  with 
him  he  asked  me  if  I was  still  of  the  same  opinion  con- 
cerning the  council  meeting  as  when  I talked  with  him 
before.  I told  him  that  I was,  that  I had  not  seen  or 
heard  anything  to  change  my  mind  in  the  least.  He 
then  said:  “I  had  a conversation  with  Gen.  Canby  and 

Rev.  Col.  Thomas,  and  Col.  Thomas  scoffs  at  the  idea 
you  advance,  claiming  that  they  were  going  in  a good 
cause,  and  that  the  Lord  would  protect  them.,,  I told 
the  General  that  George  Jones  and  I were  going  to  see 
that  meeting.  He  said  that  would  not  do,  for  it  was 
strictly  forbidden.  I assured  the  General  that  I would 
not  break  any  rules,  but  that  I would  see  the  meeting.  I 
had  given  my  scouts  their  orders  until  ten  o’clock  the 
next  day,  and  when  dark  came  Jones  and  I were  going 
to  the  bluff  on  this  side  of  the  canyon  and  there  secrete 
ourselves,  where,  with  a glass,  we  could  see  the  whole 
proceeding  and  not  be  discovered  by  the  Indians. 

The  reader  will  understand  that  a scout  is,  in  a cer- 
tain measure,  a privileged  character. 

As  soon  as  it  was  dark  Saturday  evening  George  and 
I went  to  the  place  mentioned  and  remained  there  until 


THE  MEETING. 


497 


the  time  arrived  for  the  meeting.  About  nine  o’clock 
that  morning  the  fog  raised  and  the  sun  shone  brightly, 
§£  6 making  it  one 

of  the  most 
pleasant  morn- 
ings we  had  ex- 
perienced for 
some  time, 
thereby  giving 
us  a good  view 
of  the  grounds 
of  the  proposed 
meeting,  and  we 
could  see  Cap- 
tain Jack  and 
another  Indian 
there  waiting.  I 
l , could  recognize 
Jack’s  features 
through  the 
glass,  but  the 
other  Indian  I 
could  not.  In 
a short  time  we 
saw  Gen,  Canby,  Col.  Thomas,  George  Meeks  and  his 
squaw  coming.  When  they  reached  the  lower  end  of  the 
little  opening  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  from  where 
Captain  Jack  was  standing,  they  dismounted,  tied  their 
horses  and  walked  slowly  in  the  direction  where  Captain 
Jack  was  standing,  and  every  few  steps  Gen.  Canby 
would  look  back,  apparantly  to  see  if  any  one  was  fol- 


They  shook  hands  with  Captain  Jack. 


498 


PEACE  COMMISSION  MURDERED. 


lowing  them.  On  arriving  at  the  spot  they  shook  hands 
with  Captain  Jack  and  the  other  Indian,  and  probably 
fifteen  minutes  elapsed  when  Captain  Jack  dropped  his 
blanket  from  his  shoulders  to  the  ground  and  suddenly 
turned  and  picked  it  up.  This,  I believe,  was  a signal 
for  an  attack,  for  the  next  moment  I saw  smoke  from  a 
number  of  guns  from  the  rocks  and  could  hear  the  reports 
also.  Col.  Thomas,  Meeks  and  his  squaw  started  on  the 
run,  but  Gen.  Canby  fell  in  his  tracks,  a victim  at  the 
hands  of  Captain  Jack  and  his  followers.  Col.  Thomas 
only  ran  about  ten  steps,  when  he  fell.  Meeks  ran  nearly 
one  hundred  yards,  when  he  fell,  and  the  squaw  escaped 
unhurt,  but  badly  scared,  I presume. 

As  soon  as  Gen.  Canby  had  fallen  George  Jones 
asked  if  he  had  better  go  to  headquarters  and  give  the 
alarm.  I told  him  to  go  with  all  possible  speed.  George 
reached  camp  twenty  minutes  ahead  of  me.  The  other 
officers  could  not  believe  that  he  was  telling  the  truth, 
but  when  I arrived  and  told  them  that  the  entire  crowd 
had  been  killed,  with  the  exception  of  the  squaw,  they 
were  thunderstruck,  and  by  the  time  I was  through  tell- 
ing them  the  squaw  was  there. 

I do  not  know  just  how  many  soldiers  were  sent  to 
recover  the  dead  bodies,  but  that  day  there  was  a gen- 
eral attack  made  on  Captain  Jack,  which  was  kept  up 
from  day  to  day  almost  as  long  as  the  war  lasted. 

When  it  was  foggy,  as  it  was  nearly  all  the  time,  the 
Indians  almost  invariably  got  the  best  of  the  soldiers, 
from  the  fact  that  they  would  come  out  without  any 
clothing  on  their  bodies  with  a bunch  of  sage-brush  tied 
on  their  heads,  and  their  skins  being  so  similar  in  color 


. Wheaton  dashed  up  to  my  side  and  said:  “Where  can  those  Indians  be?”  Page  499 





SOLDIERS  ATTACKED. 


499 v 


to  that  of  the  lava  rocks,  that  when  the  fog  was  thick, 
at  a distance  of  thirty  or  forty  yards,  it  was  impossible 
to  distinguish  an  Indian  from  a rock.  There  were  more 
or  less  soldiers  killed  and  wounded  every  day  until  the 
end  of  the  war. 

One  day  only  a short  time  after  the  assasination  of 
Gen.  Canby  and  Col.  Thomas,  the  soldiers  were  attacked 
in  Dry  Lake  canyon  by  the  Modocs  and  were  getting 
badly  butchered  up. 

As  I rode  along  Gen.  Wheaton  dashed  up  by  my  side 
and  said:  “Where  can  those  Indians  be  and  what  kind 

of  guns  have  they?  I have  been  losing  men  all  day  and 
there  has  not  been  an  Indian  seen.”  I told  the  General 
I would  try  and  locate  them  and  let  him  know  just  where 
they  were.  Taking  George  Jones  and  another  man  by 
the  name  of  Owens  with  me,  I rode  around  on  the  op- 
posite ridge,  dismounted,  and  leaving  my  horse  with  the 
other  boys,  I crawled  down  among  the  rocks.  I had  on 
a buckskin  suit  and  could  not  be  seen  much  easier  than 
a Modoc  when  in  the  lava  beds.  They  kept  up  a con- 
tinual firing,  and  now  and  then  I could  hear  a bullet  whiz 
near  me.  After  I had  crawled  about  sixty  yards  as  cau- 
tiously as  I could  I raised  on  one  knee  and  foot  and  my 
gun  was  resting  across  my  leg  while  I was  peering 
through  the  fog  to  see  if  I could  get  sight  of  any  Indians, 
and  listening  to  see  if  I could  hear  an  Indian’s  voice.  I 
had  remained  in  this  position  about  five  minutes  when  a 
ball  struck  me  on  the  shin-bone,  just  below  the  boot  top. 
It  appeared  to  me  that  I could  have  heard  it  crack  at  a 
hundred  yards.  Never  before  in  my  life  had  I expe- 
rienced such  a miserable  feeling  as  at  that  time.  I 


500 


AM  WOUNDED. 


thought  that  my  leg  was  broken  into  atoms.  I started  to 
crawl  back  up  the  hill,  taking  the  same  route  that  1 had 
come  down,  and  when  I had  ascended  the  hill  near 
enough  to  the  boys  so  they  could  see  me,  George 
Jones  saw  that  I was  hurt. 

He  dropped  his  gun  and  ran  to  me  at  once  and  said: 
‘‘Captain,  are  you  badly  hurt?”  But  before  I had  time 
to  answer  him  he  had  picked  me  up  bodily  and  was  run- 
ning up  the  hill  with  me. 

When  he  got  to  where  our  horses  were  he  said: 
“Where  are  you 
shot?”  I said: 

“George,  my  left 
leg  is  shot  off.” 

“What  shall  we 
do?”  said  George. 

I told  him  to  put 
me  on  Johnny, 
that  being  the 
name  of  my  horse, 
and  I would  go  to 
headquarters.  He 
said:  “Let  me 

pull  your  boot 
oft,”  at  the  same 
time  taking  hold 
of  my  boot.  I 

Caught  my  leg  Peering  out  into  the  fog. 

with  both  hands 

to  hold  the  bones  together  while  the  boot  was  being  re- 
moved from  the  leg,  thinking  that  the  bone  was  shattered 


LOST  A SCOUT. 


501 


into  small  pieces.  As  soon  as  George  had  succeded  in 
removing  my  boot  from  my  foot,  he  turned  the  top  of 
the  boot  downward  to  let  the  blood  run  out  of  it. 

4 ‘Why,”  said  he,  4 ‘your  leg  is  not  bleeding  at  all.”  I 
then  commenced  feeling  my  leg,  but  could  not  feel  or 
hear  any  bones  work,  so  by  the  assistance  of  George  I 
got  my  breeches-leg  up  and  there  the  ball  stuck  just  be- 
tween the  skin  and  the  bone  of  my  leg,  and  the  boys  had 
a good  laugh  at  my  expense. 

When  I had  learned  that  my  leg  was  not  broken, 
George  and  I crawled  down  together  into  the  canyon, 
and  located  the  Indians.  We  got  so  near  that  we  could 
see  the  flash  from  their  guns  through  the  fog.  We  then 
ascended  the  hill,  mounted  our  horses,  rode  back  and  re- 
ported to  Gen.  Wheaton.  But  the  Indians  had  the  ad- 
vantage over  the  soldiers  from  the  fact  that  the  soldiers’ 
clould  be  easily  distinguished  from  the  rocks. 

About  one  we.ek  later,  George  Jones,  a young  man 
named  Savage,  and  myself,  went  on  just  such  another 
trip.  It  was  our  custom  when  going  into  the  canyon  to 
leave  one  man  in  charge  of  our  horses  until  we  returned, 
and  in  this  case  we  left  Savage  with  three  saddle  horses 
and  instructions  to  remain  there  until  we  returned.  On 
our  return  we  found  poor  Savage  mortally  wounded,  and 
he  only  lived  a few  minutes.  He  had  two  balls  through 
his  body.  It  seemed  that  he  had  tied  the  horses  and 
come  to  the  top  of  the  hill  to  look  for  us  or  to  warn  us 
of  danger,  and  while  there  had  been  shot  down  by  the 
Indians. 

This  was  the  first  scout  I had  lost  since  I had  en- 
tered the  scouting  field  at  this  place.  By  the  assistance 


502 


THE  SUPPLY  TRAIN. 


of  Jones  I got  the  body  on  my  horse  in  front  of  me  and 
carried  it  to  headquarters  and  reported  to  Gen.  Ross, 
who  was  acquainted  with  Savage’s  family,  and  he  sent 
the  body  to  Jacksonville  for  interment.  A few  days 
later,  George,  myself  and  four  assistants  started  out  to 
meet  a pack-train  that  was  coming  in  from  Yreka,  Cal., 
with  supplies.  We  met  the  train  twelve  miles  from 
headquarters  and  told  the  man  in  charge  that  he  would 
either  have  to  cross  the  lava  beds  or  go  around  forty  miles. 
He  decided  to  take  chances  in  crossing  the  lava  beds  in 
preference  to  going  so  far  around.  We  told  him  that  he 
would  be  running  a great  risk,  for  we  were  satisfied  that 
Jack  was  running  short  of  provisions  and  that  he  had 
men  out  all  the  time  foraging,  and  we  knew  that  if  the 
Indians  happened  to  discover  this  train  they  would  make 
a desperate  effort  to  capture  it,  or  at  least  a part  of  it. 
There  were  fifty  animals  in  the  train  and  only  three  men. 
When  we  started  across  the  lava  beds  I took  the  lead, 
and  George  and  our  other  men  in  the  rear.  In  case  of 
an  attack  on  either,  he  was  to  fire  two  shots  in  quick 
succession  as  a signal  for  assistance,  for  the  fog  was 
almost  thick  enough  that  day  to  cut  in  slices  with  a 
knife.  The  man  in  charge  of  the  train  started  a young 
man  ahead  with  me  to  lead  the  bell-horse,  placing  an- 
other young  man  about  the  center  of  the  train. 

It  was  a miserably  rough  country  across  these  lava 
beds,  and  we  had  to  travel  very  slowly. 

The  man  in  charge  dropped  back  in  the  rear  of  the 
train,  thinking  that  if  we  were  attacked  it  would  be  at 
the  rear. 


Chief  Joseph’s  Camp  on  the  Nez  Perce  k< 


THE  PROVISION  TRAIN. 


503 


The  reader  will  understand  that  in  crossing  this  hell- 
hearth  it  was  necessary  for  the  pack-animals  to  string 
out  single  file. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 


The  cry  of  a babe. — Capture  of  a bevy  of  squaws. 
Treachery  of  Gen.  Ross’  men  in  killing  prison- 
ers.— Capture  of  the  Modoc  Chief. 


When  we  were  across  the  lava  beds,  or  “Devil’s  Gar- 
den,” as  the  place  was  commonly  called,  I told  the  man 
who  was  leading  the  bell-horse  to  stop  and  wait  until  the 
other  animals  had  come  up  in  order  to  see  whether  we 
had  lost  any.  This  was  within  a mile  of  headquarters. 
The  man  in  charge,  also  Jones  and  the  other  scouts, 
came  up,  but  the  young  man  who  had  been  riding  in  the 
middle,  also  four  mules  and  their  packs,  as  the  saying  is, 
“came  up  missing.” 

The  train  went  on  to  headquarters,  but  Jones  and  I 
returned  along  the  trail  to  see  if  we  could  find  the  miss- 
ing man.  One  of  us,  however,  had  to  leave  the  trail  and 
scout  along  on  foot. 


5°4 


STONED  TO  DEATH. 


After  following  the  back-track  two  miles  I found 
where  the  four  mules  had  left  it.  It  was  now  late  in  the 
evening,  and  we  were  within  less  than  a mile  and  a half 
of  Captain  Jack’s  stronghold.  We  tied  our  horses  there 
and  started  out,  caring  but  little  about  the  mules  and 
their  packs;  it  was  the  man  that  we  were  looking  after. 
We  had  not  gone  more  than  fifty  yards  from  the  trail 
when  we  found  the  body. 

The  poor  fellow  had  been  stoned  to  death,  his  head 
being  beaten  out  of  shape.  This  the  Indians  had  done 
to  prevent  an  alarm.  They  had  evidently  been  hidden 
in  the  lava  rocks  and  had  managed  to  turn  those  lour 
mules  from  the  trail,  and  the  fog  being  so  thick  that  a 
person  could  not  see  any  distance,  the  man  did  not  notice 
that  he  was  off  of  the  trail  until  too  late;  and 'when  once 
off  the  trail  a few  paces  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  get 
back  again.  The  mules  and  packs  were  never  seen 
again.  The  Indians,  no  doubt,  took  them  to  the  cave, 
used  the  provisions,  killed  and  ate  the  mules  and  saddle 
horse  which  the  man  was  riding.  We  took  the  body  to 
headquarters,  and  the  next  day  it  was  started  to  Yreka, 
Cal.  I do  not  remember  the  name  of  this  young  man, 
but  he  lived  near  Yreka. 

Gen.  Wheaton  was  now  fighting  the  Indians  every 
day,  and  at  night  kept  a strong  picket  guard  around  the 
cave.  About  this  time  it  was  reported  that  Gen.  Whea- 
ton had  received  orders  to  take  Captain  Jack  if  he  had  to 
exterminate  the  entire  tribe. 

The  feeling  was  getting  to  be  very  strong  against 
Captain  Jack  in  regard  to  the  assassination  of  Gen. 
Canby,  Col.  Thomas  and  George  Meeks,  tbe  interpreter. 


STARVING  THEM  OUT. 


505 


One  evening  in  a conversation  with  Gen.  Wheaton  he 
asked  me  how  long  I thought  it  would  take  to  starve 
them  out.  I said:  4 ‘General,  if  they  took  all  their  horses 
in  the  cave,  which  I believe  they  did,  and  we  know  for  a 
fact  that  they  got  some  cattle  from  the  Klamath  river,  I 
think  it  will  be  May  or  June  before  you  will  be  able  to 
starve  them  out.” 

He  said  that  every  Indian  that  came  out  of  the  cave 
single-handed  or  otherwise  would  not  live  to  get  through 
the  picket  line,  saying  that  he  had  a double  picket  line 
now  around  the  entire  cave,  both  day  and  night. 

The  next  morning  after  this  conversation  with  the 
General,  one  of  my  scouts  came  in  from  Rattlesnake 
Point  and  reported  having  seen  the  tracks  of  twenty  In- 
dians, where  they  had  crossed  the  road  on  the  east  side 
of  the  lake,  and  they  were  all  small  tracks. 

I reported  this  to  the  General,  telling  him  that  Jack 
was  a pretty  smart  Indian,  for  he  was  sending  his  women 
and  children  away  so  as  to  make  his  provisions  last  as 
long  as  possible. 

George  Jones  and  I started  out,  accompanied  by  two 
platoons  of  soldiers,  to  capture  the  Indians.  We  had  no 
trouble  in  finding  their  trail,  and  in  running  them  down. 

It  so  happened  that  our  escort  that  day  were  all  Gen. 
Ross’  men  and  were  all  friends  to  young  Savage,  who 
had  recently  been  killed  by  the  Modocs.  After  following 
the  trail  about  ten  miles  we  came  in  sight  of  the  Indians 
on  Lost  river.  We  did  not  see  them  until  we  were  near 
them  and  had  no  trouble  in  capturing  the  whole  outfit. 
There  were  twenty-two,  all  squaws  and  little  girls.  I 
was  personally  acquainted  with  all  of  those  Indians,  and 


506 


CAPTURE  THE  SQUAWS. 


knowing  so  well  the  cause  of  all  this  trouble,  and  just 
what  brought  it  about,  I could  not  help  sympathizing 
with  the  women  and  children.  In  fact,  I had  felt  from 
the  very  start  that  this  trouble  was  all  uncalled  for. 
Among  the  crowd  was  one  young  squaw  who  spoke  pretty 
fair  English  for  an  Indian  in  those  days.  I was  well 
acquainted  with  her,  and  told  her  that  we  would  have  to 
take  them  all,  but  that  they  would  be  treated  as  prison- 
ers. She  did  not  seem  to  understand  the  meaning  of 
‘ ‘prisoners.  ” 

I explained  to  her,  and  she  in  her  own  tongue  ex- 
plained i#t  to  the  rest  of  the  crowd.  I told  her  that  we 
would  have  to  take  them  back  to  headquarters. 

She  said:  “We  heap  hungry,  long  time  no  eat  much. 
Maby  white  man  no  give  us  anything  to  eat.  ’Spose  no 
eat  purty  soon  all  die.”  I assured  her  that  they  would 
have  plenty  to  eat  as  long  as  they  behaved  themselves 
and  gave  the  soldiers  no  trouble. 

They  all  seemed  to  be  perfectly  willing  to  surrender 
and  go  back  to  headquarters,  so  we  started  back  via  Tule 
Lake.  When  we  reached  the  mouth  of  Lost  river  I 
turned  the  prisoners  over  to  the  two  sergeants  who 
had  charge  of  the  two  platoons  of  soldiers.  George  and 
I wanted  to  make  a circuit  around  in  the  direction  of 
Clear  Lake,  thinking,  of  course,  that  the  prisoners 
would  be  perfectly  safe  in  charge  of  the  soldiers,  especi- 
ally those  little  girls.  George  and  I did  not  get  to  head- 
quarters that  night  until  ten  o’clock,  and  the  first  thing 
I heard  when  I got  into  camp  was  that  the  Indians  had 
tried  to  run  off  into  the  tules  while  coming  down  Tule 
Lake,  and  they  had  all  been  shot  down  by  the  soldiers. 


Modoc  Braves  Taken  Prisoners  by  Capt.  W.  F.  Drannan. 


PRISONERS  SHOT. 


507 


I went  at  once  to  see  Gen.  Ross  relative  to  the  matter, 
for  I could  not  believe  it.  The  General  confirmed  the  re- 
port by  saying  every  one  of  them  had  been  shot.  I said: 
“General,  that  is  the  most  cowardly  piece  of  work  I ever 
heard  white  men  accused  of  in  my  life.  Will  you  please 
tell  the  men  who  did  that  cowardly  piece  of  work,  that 
they  had  better  never  be  caught  out  with  me  when  I have 
the  best  of  it,  for  I would  much  prefer  shooting  such  men 
down,  to  shooting  helpless  women  and  children.” 

This  conversation  caused  a great  deal  of  talk  of  a 
court-martial,  but  it  all  blew  over,  I suppose,  on  account 
of  Captain  Jack  murdering  Gen.  Canby.  The  next  con- 
versation I had  with  Gen.  Wheaton,  I asked  why  the 
picket  guard  let  those  Indians  pass  through  the  picket 
line,  and  speaking  as  though  I thought  they  had  passed 
boldly  out  through  the  line;  he  said: 

“I  cannot  see  into  it  myself.” 

I said:  “General,  that  is  the  way  the  Indians  will 

all  get  out  of  there,  and  at  the  final  surrender  you  will 
not  have  six  warriors  in  the  cave.  From  this  on  you 
will  find  that  they  will  gradually  desert  Jack,  for  the 
squaws  told  me  that  they  were  getting  very  hungry.” 

It  was  reported  around  that  Captain  Jack  and  three 
other  Indians  would  be  hung  if  caught  alive,  this  being 
the  orders  from  headquarters.  The  other  three  were 
Schonchin,  Scarfaced  Charlie  and  Shacknasty  Jim,  these 
being  Jack’s  council  or  under  chiefs. 

When  this  report  came,  Gen.  Wheaton  told  me  that 
if  it  was  necessary  he  would  make  another  detail  of 
scouts,  for  he  would  not  under  any  consideration  have 
the  Indians  escape.  I told  the  General  to  give  himself 


508 


THE  SCOUTS  BUSY. 


no  uneasiness  in  regard  to  that  part  of  it,  for  we  would 
run  down  all  the  Indians  that  crossed  the  picket  line,  but 
I must  know  what  I should  promise  a prisoner  when  I 
captured  him.  I asked  if  I should  promise  them  protec- 
tion or  not,  for  if  there  was  no  protection,  I would  not 
bring  them  in.  He  assured  me  that  all  prisoners  caught 
after  this  would  be  protected  as  prisoners  of  war  until 
tried  and  proven  guilty. 

What  the  General  meant  by  that  was  those  who 
might  be  proven  guilty  of  being  directly  interested  in  the 
murder  of  Gen.  Canby  and  Col.  Thomas. 

I now  put  George  Jones  on  the  night  shift.  He  hac 
the  entire  charge  of  night  scouting,  and  he  and  his  assist- 
ants rode  all  night  long.  In  the  morning  I started  out 
with  my  assistants  and  rode  all  day;  so  it  was  impossible 
for  the  Indians  to  get  out  and  away  without  our  getting 
track  of  them,  and  if  they  left  a track  we  were  sure  to 
capture  them. 

We  kept  this  up  for  about  three  weeks,  when  I made 
a change;  George  and  I doing  the  night  scouting  alone, 
and  leaving  the  day  scouting  for  the  other  scouts. 

One  night  we  were  out  near  Dry  Lake,  about  five 
miles  from  headquarters,  and  there  came  up  a cold  fog. 
We  built  a little  fire  to  warm  by,  and  shortly  after  we 
had  started  it  we  heard  what  an  inexperienced  man  would 
have  called  two  cayotes,  but  we  knew  they  were  Indians 
and  were  in  different  directions  and  this  was  their  signal 
for  meeting. 

We  mounted  our  horses  and  rode  in  the  opposite 
direction,  but  before  we  left  we  gave  a yelp  in  a laugh- 
ing sort  of  manner  to  make  the  Indians  believe  that  we 


SHOT  TWO  MODOCS. 


509 


thought  it  was  cayotes.  We  rode  quietly  away  about 
three  hundred  yards  from  the  fire,  dismounted,  tied  our 
horses  and  crawled  back  near  the  fire.  All  this  time  the 
Indians  had  kept  up  their  cayote  barking  and  were  draw- 
ing near  the  fire.  It  was  some  little  time  before  they 
dared  approach,  but  after  they  had  looked  carefully 
around,  I suppose  they  thought  it  had  been  campers  who 
had  stopped,  built  a fire  and  then  pulled  out,  for  it  was 
not  the  custom  of  scouts  to  build  a fire,  which  the  In- 
dians well  knew,  they  finally  ventured  up  to  the  fire  and 
were  warming  themselves.  Seeing  that  they  were  both 
armed  with  rifles,  and  the  chances  were  they  both  had 
pistols,  we  made  up  our  minds  not  to  take  any  chances, 
so  I proposed  to  George  that  we  should  shoot  them  down, 
just  as  they  would  have  done  us  if  we  had  not  under- 
stood their  signal. 

Of  course  if  it  had  been  daylight  it  would  have  been 
quite  different,  but  three  jumps  away  from  the  fire  and 
they  would  have  been  safe  from  us.  We  were  sitting 
side  by  side  not  more  than  forty  yards  from  them.  I 
told  George  to  take  the  one  on  the  right  and  I would 
take  the  one  on  the  left,  and  when  he  gave  the  word  I 
would  fire  with  him.  We  raised  our  guns,  and  when 
he  gave  the  word  we  both  fired,  and  the  two  Indians  fell 
to  the  ground.  We  waited  about  five  minutes  to  see 
whether  they  would  rise  or  not,  and  believing  we  had 
killed  them  both,  we  approached  them.  One  of  them 
was  dead  and  the  other  was  just  about  dead,  so  we  took 
their  guns  and  pistols  and  reported  to  Gen.  Wheaton. 

The  next  morning  he  said  it  was  a mystery  how  the 


5io 


THE  CRY  OF  A BABE. 


Indians  would  get  out  and  the  men  on  picket  would  not 
see  them.  He  said:  “I  cannot  see  through  it.” 

About  a week  or  ten  days  later  George  and  I were 
coming  in  just  before  daylight,  when  we  heard  a baby 
cry  on  the  hillside  only  a short  distance  from  us.  We 
stopped  and  listed  until  we  had  located  it.  George  dis- 
mounted, and  I held  his  horse  while  he  crawled  up  to  see 
where  it  was,  and  found  that  there  was  quite  a number 
of  squaws  and  children  there.  I told  him  that  it  would 
be  a matter  of  impossibility  for  them  to  get  away  from 
us  and  the  grass  so  high,  for  we  could  track  them  easily, 
so  I left  him  there  to  keep  watch  and  see  which  way  they 
moved  so  that  we  would  know  how  to  start  after  them, 
and  I would  ride  to  headquarters,  about  two  miles  away, 
for  assistance  to  help  capture  them  when  it  was  daylight. 
I rode  slow  until  so  far  away  that  I knew  they  could  not 
hear  the  clatter  of  my  horse’s  feet,  and  then  I put  spurs 
to  my  horse  and  rode  with  all  speed  to  headquarters. 
When  I passed  the  camp  guard  he  challenged  me  and  I 
gave  my  name.  I could  hear  it  carried  down  the  line 
from  one  to  another,  '‘There  comes  the  Captain  of  the 
Scouts,  there  is  something  up.”  Rather  than  wake  up  a 
commissioned  officer,  I woke  up  my  entire  scout  force, 
and  was  back  to  where  George  Jones  was  just  at  day- 
light. He  said  that  the  squaws  had  moved  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Clear  Lake.  There  was  a heavy  dew  and  we  had 
no  trouble  in  finding  their  trail  and  following  it;  in  fact, 
at  times  we  could  ride  almost  at  full  speed  and  follow 
without  difficulty.  We  had  only  gone  about  four  miles 
when  we  came  in  sight  of  them,  six  squaws,  a little  boy, 
a little  girl  and  a baby.  When  they  saw  me  coming  they 


THE  FIRST  PRISONERS. 


511 

all  stopped.  I rode  up  and  asked  them  where  they  were 
going.  They  could  all  speak  a little  English. 

There  was  one  in  the  crowd  named  Mary,  with  whom 
I was  well  acquainted,  who  said:  “We  heap  hungry,  too 
much  hungry,  we  go  Clear  Lake  catch  fish.”  I told  her 
that  we  would  have  to  take  them  prisoners  and  take  them 
all  back  to  headquarters  and  keep  them  there  until  we 
got  all  the  Modoc  Indians  and  then  they  would  have  to 
go  on  to  the  reservation.  “No,  too  much  hungry,  you 
all  time  fight  Captain  Jack,  Injun  no  catch  fish.  All 
time  eatem  hoss.  No  more  boss  now;  Injun  eatem  all 
up,  eatem  some  cow  too.  No  more  hoss,  no  more  cow. 
Injun  all  heap  hungry.” 

It  was  some  time  before  I could  make  them  believe 
that  they  would  be  fed  when  at  headquarters,  but  they 
being  acquainted  with  me  and  knowing  that  I had  been 
a friend  to  them  in  time  of  peace.  I finally  succeeded  in 
getting  them  to  turn  and  go  to  headquarters.  These 
were  the  first  prisoners  that  had  been  taken  to  the  Gen- 
eral’s quarters  during  the  Modoc  war. 

Gen.  Wheaton  was  away  from  his  quarters,  so  I left 
the  prisoners  in  charge  of  George  Jones  and  the  other 
scouts,  with  instructions  to  let  no  one  interfere  with  them 
while  I went  to  hunt  the  General. 

I soon  found  him  and  with  him  returned  to  where  the 
Indians  were.  The  General  asked  me  to  question  the 
one  of  them  that  talked  the  best  English  and  had  done 
the  most  talking,  concerning  the  number  of  men  that 
Captain  Jack  had  in  his  stronghold.  When  I asked  her 
she  said:  “Some  days  twenty  men,  some  days  thirty  men, 
no  more,  some  go  away.  No  more  come  back,  some 


512 


SAW  THREE  TRACKS. 


shoot,  by  and  by  he  die.  Two  days  now  me  not  eat. 
Injun  man,  he  no  eat  much.” 

From  this  we  inferred  that  they  only  had  a little  pro- 
visions left,  and  the  men  that  did  the  fighting  did  the  eat- 
ing also.  They  were  given  something  to  eat  at  once^ 
and  I don’t  think  I ever  saw  more  hungry  mortals.  1 
told  the  General  that  it  would  not  be  long  until  they 
would  all  come  out,  but  that  I did  not  think  they  would 
come  in  a body,  but  would  slip  out  two  or  three  at  a 
time.  The  General  thought  it  so  strange  that  they  were 
stealing  out  through  the  picket  lines  and  the  guards  not 
seeing  any  of  them. 

Some  three  weeks  later  than  this,  it  being  about  the 
first  of  June,  1873,  George  and  I had  been  out  all  night 
and  were  coming  into  quarters,  being  a little  later  this 
morning  than  common,  and  when  we  were  within  about 
one  and  a half  miles  from  quarters  we  crossed  the  trail 
of  three  Indians.  I got  down  and  examined  the  tracks 
closely;  there  was  one  track  quite  large  and  long,  an- 
other not  quite  so  large  and  the  third  was  quite  small.  I 
told  George  I was  not  afraid  to  bet  twenty  dollars  that 
they  were  the  tracks  of  Captain  Jack,  his  wife  and  little 
girl.  We  pushed  on  to  headquarters  with  all  possible 
speed  and  reported  to  Gen.  Wheaton,  He  asked  my 
reason  for  thinking  that  it  was  Captain  Jack.  I told  him 
from  the  fact  that  it  suited  for  his  family.  I was  well 
acquainted  with  both  him  and  his  squaw,  and  I told  the 
General  that  Jack  himself  had  an  unusually  long  foot. 
He  asked  how  much  of  an  escort  I wanted  and  if  I would 
go  at  once.  I told  him  I would,  and  I wanted  two  pla- 
toons. He  directed  his  orderlies  to  report  as  soon  as 


ON  THE  TRAIL 


513 


possible  with  two  platoons  of  cavalry,  and  I gave  my 
horse  to  George,  telling  him  to  change  our  saddles  to 
fresh  horses  at  once.  As  soon  as  it  was  noised  around 
that  we  had  got  track  of  Captain  Jack,  the  scouts  all 
wanted  to  accompany  me,  but  I told  them  that  their  ser- 
vices could  not  be  dispensed  with  at  camp  for  one  hour, 
for  it  was  getting  now  where  the  the  thing  must  be 
watched  very  closely.  George  rode  up  on  a fresh  horse 
and  was  leading  Black  Bess  with  my  saddle  on  her.  I 
mounted  and  we  were  off  again  in  pursuit  of  Captain 
Jack,  but  as  we  rode  away  Gen.  Wheaton  expressed  him- 
self as  being  doubtful  as  to  its  being  Captain  Jack. 

When  we  struck  the  trail  of  the  three  Indians,  I had 
one  platoon  to  ride  on  each  side  of  the  trail,  keeping 
about  fifty  yards  away  from  it,  and  in  case  we  should 
miss  it  or  get  off,  we  would  have  a chance  to  go  back 
and  pick  it  up  again  before  it  would  become  obliterated. 

This  was  one  of  the  prettiest  mornings  that  we  could 
have  had  for  the  occasion.  The  fog  disappeared  with 
the  rising  of  the  sun,  and  in  many  places  we  could  look 
ahead  and  see  the  trail  in  the  grass  for  fifty  yards. 
In  those  places  we  put  our  horses  down  to  their  utmost. 
George  and  I were  both  very  hungry,  having  had  nothing 
to  eat  since  the  evening  before,  and  we  had  been  in  the 
saddle  all  night,  but  an  old  scout  forgets  all  this  when  he 
gets  on  a fresh  Indian  trail  and  becomes  somewhat  ex- 
cited. After  we  had  gone  about  six  miles  we  came  to  a 
gravel  country  for  a mile  and  a half,  and  it  was  slow  and 
tedious  tracking  across  this,  for  many  times  we  had  noth- 
ing to  go  by  only  as  they  might  turn  a little  pebble  over 
with  their  feet  or  step  on  a little  spear  of  grass  and  mash 


5M 


Captain  Jack  captured. 


it  down,  and  this  was  very  thin  and  scattering  on  the 
ridge.  However,  as  soon  as  we  were  across  the  gravelly 
ridge,  we  again  struck  grass  and  we  let  our  horses  out 
almost  at  full  speed,  knowing  very  well  that  as  soon  as 
the  dew  dried  off  it  would  be  slow  and  tedious  tracking. 
After  we  had  ridden  about  twelve  miles,  and  just  as  we 


raised  the  top  of  the  hill,  on  looking  across  on  the  next 
ridge  we  saw  the  three  Indians,  and  sure  enough,  it  was 
Captain  Jack,  his  squaw  and  little  girl.  About  thisdime 
he  turned  and  saw  us  coming.  He  stood  and  looked  at 
us  for  a moment  or  so  and  the  three  all  turned  and 
started  back  to  meet  us.  We  both  pulled  our  pistols  and 
dashed  up  to  him  at  full  speed. 


TAKEN  TO  HEADQUARTERS. 


5*5 


• When  we  were  close  enough,  I could  see  that  he  had 
a smile  on  his  face,  and  I knew  that  he  had  recognized 
me.  When  we  rode  up  to  him  he  said:  “Good  mornin. 
Long  time  no  see  you,”  and  at  the  same  time  presented 
the  gun  with  the  breech  foremost. 

As  I took  the  gun,  I said  to  him:  “Jack,  where  are 
you  going?” 

He  replied:  “O,  heap  hungry,  guess  go  Clear  Lake 

catch  fish.” 

I said:  “No,  Jack;  you  are  my  prisoner.  I will 

have  to  take  you  back  to  Gen.  Wheaton.” 

He  replied:  “No,  me  no  want  to  go  back,  no  more 

fight,  too  much  all  time  hungry,  little  girl  nearly  starve, 
no  catch  fish  soon  he  die.”  But  when  he  saw  that  he 
had  to  go,  he  said: 

All  right,  me  go.” 

So  I took  the  little  girl  up  behind  me,  and  George 
took  the  squaw  up  behind  him  and  Jack  walked. 

It  was  in  the  afternoon  when  we  returned  to  head- 
quarters with  the  prisoners,  and  there  was  no  little  re- 
joicing among  the  soldiers  when  they  learned  for  a cer- 
tainty that  I had  taken  Captain  Jack  prisoner. 

That  afternoon  a runner  was  started  to  Yreka  with 
a dispatch  to  headquarters  to  the  effect  that  Gen. 
Wheaton  had  takeu  the  notorious  Captain  Jack  pris- 
oner. As  a matter  of  fact,  an  old  scout  is  never  known 
in  such  cases.  They,  as  a general  rule,  do  the  work, 
but  the  officers  always  get  the  praise.  Although  Gen. 
Wheaton  had  the  praise  of  capturing  Captain  Jack,  he 
had  but  little  more  to  do  with  it  than  the  President 
of  the  United  States. 


STORY  OF  THE  CAPTURE. 


5i6 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 


DRY  OF  THE  CAPTURED  BRAVES. WHY  CAPTAIN  JACK 

DESERTED. LOATHSOME  CONDITION  OF  THE  INDIAN 

STRONGHOLD. END  OF  THE  WAR. SOME  COMMENTS. 


That  evening  I had  a long  conversation  with  Captain 
Jack,  and  from  him  I learned  the  exact  number  of 
Indians  in  the  cave.  He  said  there  were  twenty 
women,  and  maybe  thirty  children  and  twenty-two  war- 
riors. He  said  they  would  not  stay  there  long  for  they 
had  nothing  to  eat,  and  their  ammunition  was  nearly 
gone. 

I must  admit  that  when  I learned  Jack’s  story  of  the 
way  that  he  had  been  both  driven  and  pulled  into  this 
war,  which  I knew  to  be  a fact  myself,  I was  sorry  for 
him.  He  said  that  after  the  Indian  agent  would  not  send 
them  anything  to  eat  he  was  forced  to  go  away  from  the 
reservation  to  catch  fish  to  keep  his  people  from  starv- 
ing, for  which  purpose  he  was  at  the  mouth  of  Lost  rivet 
vhen  the  soldiers  came  there.  One  morning  before  the 
soldiers  fired  on  him  without  even  telling  him  to  return 
to  the  reservation  or  giving  him  any  warning  whatever. 
He  said  that  he  did  not  give  orders  for  his  men  to  kill 
any  white  men  that  morning,  but  they  all  got  very  angry 
at  the  soldiers  for  shooting  at  them.  '‘That  day,”  said 


r 


CEASED  FIRING. 


517 


he,  “I  go  to  lava  bed,  my  men  scout  all  over  country, 
kill  all  white  men  they  see.” 

After  I was  through  talking  with  Jack,  Gen,  Whea- 
ton sent  for  me  to  come  to  his  quarters,  as  he  was  anx- 
ious to  learn  what  information  I had  obtained.  When  I 
told  him  the  number  of  Indians  yet  in  the  cave  and  that 
they  had  nothing  to  eat,  he  asked  me  what  would  be  my 
plan  for  capturing  the  remainder.  I told  him  that  if  I 
was  doing  it,  I would  capture  the  entire  outfit  without 
losing  a single  man,  but  that  it  would  take  a little  time; 
that  I would  not  fire  on  them  at  all,  but  would  double 
the  picket  line,  and  it  would  not  be  many  days  until  they 
would  surrender,  and  in  case  some  of  them  did  slip  by 
the  guards,  we  would  pick  them  up  before  they  got 
twenty  miles  away. 

The  following  morning  a council  was  held  in  camp, 
and  all  the  commissioned  officers  were  present.  Now 
Captain  Jack  had  been  captured,  and  according  to  re- 
ports, the  other  Indians  were  nearly  starved  out,  so  that 
morning  they  did  not  open  out  on  them  at  all. 

The  third  day  from  this  it  was  reported  by  a citizen 
who  had  passed  over  the  country  that  day,  that  he  saw 
Indians  up  on  Tule  Lake.  It  being  late  in  the  afternoon, 
nearly  dark  in  fact,  when  I heard  the  report  and  it  not 
being  from  a scout,  I questioned  closely  the  man  who  was 
said  to  have  seen  them,  but  did  not  get  much  satifaction 
from  him,  so  naturally  discredited  the  report.  But  for 
fear  there  might  be  some  truth  in  it,  the  next  morn- 
ing by  daybreak  George  Jones  and  I were  scouring  the 
country  in  the  vicinity  of  Tule  Lake.  After  having  ridden 
some  little  distance  we  ran  upon  the  trail  of  six  Indians, 


5i8 


CAPTURE  SIX  MORE. 


who  as  we  supposed  had  passed  the  evening  before,  and 
were  evidently  plodding  along  in  the  direction  of  Lost 
river.  This  was  without  doubt  the  trail  of  four  bucks 
and  two  squaws.  After  we  had  followed  this  trail  a few 
miles  we  found  where  they  had  stopped,  built  a fire, 
caught,  cooked  and  ate  some  fish.  We  knew  they  were 
not  many  miles  ahead  of  us,  in  fact,  the  fire  had  not  en- 
tirely gone  out.  From  here  on  we  had  plain  sailing,  and 
the  nearer  an  old  scout  gets  when  on  the  trail  of  an  In- 
dian the  more  anxious  he  gets,  so  we  sped  along  up  the 
lake  four  miles  further,  and  were  on  them  before  they 
knew  it;  they  were  all  on  the  banks  of  the  river  fishing. 

In  this  outfit  there  were  Scarfaced  Charley  and  Black 
Jim,  their  squaws,  and  two  other  Indians.  The  moment 
we  saw  them  we  both  drew  our  pistols,  but  concealed 
them  from  their  view  by  hiding  them  under  our  coats. 
When  we  approached  them  they  all  said,  “Good  morn- 
ing.” 

I did  not  see  any  guns  near  them  nor  did  either  of 
them  have  pistols.  Scarfaced  Charley  said:  “We  like 
go  reservation;  too  much  hungry,  my  squaw  nearly  dead, 
ketchem  some  fish  her,  purty  soon  go.” 

After  I had  informed  him  that  I would  have  to  take 
them  all  back  to  Gen.  Wheaton’s  quarters,  Charley  said: 
‘.‘What  for?”  I said:  “Charley,  I will  take  you  all  back 
to  headquarters,  give  you  all  plenty  to  eat,  and  when  we 
get  all  the  Modoc  Indians  they  will  be  taken  to  the 
reservation.”  “All  right,  me  go  now,”  said  Charley,  as 
he  started,  eager  to  be  off  on  the  journey  for  head- 
quarters. 

I asked  them  where  their  guns  and  pistols  were,  and 


ON  BAD  TERMS. 


519 


they  said:  “O,  me  hide  them  in  lava  bed,  too  much 

heavy,  no  like  carry.”  So  George  Jones  took  the  lead, 
the  Indians  followed  him,  and  I brought  up  the  rear.  I 
could  see  that  they  were  very  weak  from  hunger,  but  they 
plodded  along,  encouraged  by  the  thought  of  getting 
something  to  eat  at  Gen.  Wheaton’s  quarters. 

We  arrived  there  at  noon,  and  when  I turned  them 
over  to  the  General  and  told  him  their  names,  he  said: 
“It  is  with  the  greatest  of  pleasure  that  I receive  them. 
Now  if  I only  had  just  one  more  I would  be  satisfied. 
That  one  is  Schonchin.  I would  then  have  all  the  ring 
leaders.” 

Up  to  this  time  I had  not  learned  what  would  be  the 
fate  of  those  Indians  directly  interested  in  the  assassi- 
nation of  Gen.  Canby  and  Col.  Thomas,  and  I must  ad- 
mit that  I was  terribly  surprised  when  Gen.  Wheaton  in- 
formed me  that  they  would  all  be  hanged.  From  those 
Indians  I learned  that  Captain  Jack  and  his  council  were 
not  on  good  terms,  having  had  a falling  out  while  in  the 
cave,  and  they  would  not  speak  to  each  other  while  at 
Gen.  Wheaton’s  headquarters.  The  cause  of  the  trouble 
grew  out  of  a proposition  by  Captain  Jack  to  surrender, 
and  he  had  been  talking  surrender  for  two  weeks  past, 
but  the  rest  of  them  were  in  favor  of  fighting  to  the 
last.  Mary,  the  squaw,  told  me  that  they  at  one  time 
came  near  putting  Jack  to  death  for  cowardice,  and  that 
was  the  reason  he  had  deserted  them,  knowing  that  his 
life  was  in  danger  in  the  cave. 

From  this  on  we  captured  one  or  two  Modocs  every 
day.  The  fourth  day  after  the  last  band  referred  to  was 
captured,  one  of  my  scouts  reported  having  seen  Indian 


520 


CATCHING  FISH 


tracks  at  the  head  of  Tule  Lake,  but  could  not  make  out 
the  exact  number.  I had  just  lain  down  to  take  a nap, 
it  being  early  in  the  morning,  and  I had  been  riding  all 
night,  but  George  and  I saddled  our  horses  and  were  off 
for  the  head  of  Tule  Lake,  Gen.  Wheaton  promising  to 
send  a company  of  soldiers  after  us  at  once. 

We  struck  the  Indian  trail  about  twelve  miles  from 


Fishing  for  a living. 


headquarters,  this  being  the  first  band  that  had  escaped 
from  the  west  side  of  the  cave. 

As  soon  as  we  discovered  their  trail  we  put  spurs  to 
our  horses  and  sped  along  up  the  river,  for  the  trail  was 
plain  and  we  experienced  no  trouble  in  following  it,  and 


SOME  COMMENTS. 


521 


just  above  the  Natural  Bridge  on  Lost  river,  we  came  on 
to  them.  Some  were  fishing,  some  were  cooking  the  fish 
they  had  caught,  and  others  were  eating  fieh.  It  seemed 
that  each  one  of  them  caught,  cooked  and  ate  their  own 
fish.  Seeing  no  arms  we  rode  up  to  them.  There  were 
twelve  of  them,  and  among  them  was  Sconchin,  the 
other  councilman  who  the  General  was  so  anxious  to  get 
hold  of.  Sconchin  said:  (‘Go  Fort  Klamath,  all  Injun 

heap  hungry,  now  ketchem  fish,  eat  plenty,  by  and  by  go 
to  fort.” 

I had  George  Jones  turn  and  ride  back  to  hurry  the 
soldiers  up,  for  I did  not  deem  it  a safe  plan  for  two  of  us 
to  try  to  take  the  whole  crowd  prisoners,  for  even  though 
they  had  no  arms  they  might  scatter  all  over  the  country 
and  then  we  could  not  get  them  only  by  killing  them, 
and  that  I did  not  want  to  do.  While  I am  in  no  wise 
a friend  to  a hostile;  I believe  in  giving  even  an  Indian 
that  which  is  justly  due  him,  and  I must  admit  that  all 
through  this  Modoc  war  I could  not  help,  in  a measure, 
feeling  sorry  for  the  Modocs,  particularly  Captain  Jack, 
for  I knew  that  through  the  negligence  of  one  agent 
and  the  outrageous  attack  upon  Jack  by  the  squad  of 
soldiers  on  Lost  river,  while  there  catching  fish  to  keep 
his  people  from  starving,  he  had  been  driven  and  dragged 
into  this  war,  and  I do  not  believe  to-day,  nor  never  did 
believe,  that  Captain  Jack  ought  to  have  been  hanged. 

I have  often  been  asked,  since,  what  I thought  of  the 
arrangements  Mr.  Berry  made  for  the  meeting  of  Gen. 
Canby,  Col.  Thomas  and  Captain  Jack,  but  I have  always 
refrained  from  answering  that  question  any  farther  than 
that  it  seemed  to  me  that  a school  boy  ten  years  of  age 


522 


MORE  PRISONERS. 


should  have  known  better  than  to  have  made  such  a bar- 
gain as  he  did,  knowing  the  nature  of  Indians  as  well  as 
he  claimed  to. 

But  to  my  story — I stayed  there  and  engaged  the  In- 
dians in  conversation  while  George  was  making  tracks 
back  over  the  same  road  that  we  had  just  come  to  hurry 
the  cavalry  up.  I learned  from  them  that  there  were  no 
more  able-bodied  men  left  in  the  cave,  and  there  were 
some  twenty  or  thirty  squaws  and  children,  besides 
several  warriors  that  were  wounded.  In  about  an  hour 
from  the  time  George  started  back,  the  soldiers  made 
their  appearance. 

I told  the  Indians  that  we  would  have  to  take  them 
prisoners  and  take  them  back  to  headquarters.  This, 
however,  was  not  pleasant  news  to  them.  They  objected 
to  return  with  us  until  I had  informed  them  that  they 
would  be  fed  and  protected  until  such  time  as  we  could 
get  them  all,  and  they  having  been  acquainted  with  me 
before,  we  were  successful  in  persuading  them  to  return 
peacefully  to  the  General’s  quarters. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  we  returned,  and  I 
at  once  reported  to  the  General  the  number  of  Indians, 
also  that  Schonchin  was  in  the  gang,  and  that  I had 
learned  that  there  were  no  more  able-bodied  men  in  the 
cave.  I told  him  that  from  what  I could  learn,  I thought 
it  perfectly  safe  for  three  or  four  men  to  enter  the  cave 
and  secure  the  few  remaining  Indians.  The  General 
said:  “I  will  think  the  matter  over  until  morning. ” 

That  evening  the  officers  held  a council  and  it  was 
decided  that  in  case  the  following  morning  was  fair,  Col. 
Miller  and  the  Colonel  from  California  whose  name  I do 


523 


ENTERED  THE  CAVE. 


not  remember,  myself,  and  two  soldiers  would  make  the 
attempt  to  enter  the  cave,  I going  as  a guide  more  than 
anything  else. 

Next  morning  about  ten  o’clock  when  the  fog  had 
raised  and  the  sun  came  out  most  beautifully,  we  made 
the  start  for  the  cave.  Although  I had  never  been  inside 
of  the  cave,  I had  no  serious  trouble  in  finding  the  main 
entrance  to  it,  but  we  found  it  so  dark  inside  that  we  had 


In  the  cave. 


to  use  lanterns.  We  had  not  proceeded  far  until  we 
could  see  the  fire.  I proposed  to  the  others  that  as  I was 
acquainted  with  the  Indians  to  let  me  advance  alone, 
and  I can  truthfully  say  that  just  such  another  sight  I 
never  saw  before  nor  since.  There  was  a number  of 
wounded  Indians  lying  around;  here  were  the  bones  of 
their  horses  that  they  had  killed  and  eaten,  and  a smell 


524 


THE  WAR  ENDED. 


so  offensive  that  it  was  really  a hard  task  for  me  to  stay 
there  long  enough  to  tell  them  what  we  wanted  of  them. 
As  soon  as  I commenced  talking  to  them  the  squaws  and 
children  began  making  their  appearance  from  every 
direction. 

I told  them  my  business,  and  if  they  would  go  with 
me  they  would  be  fed.  They  were  not  only  willing,  but 
anxious  to  go. 

By  this  time  the  other  men  were  there,  and  when 
they  were  all  gathered  up  Col.  Miller  sent  two  men  back 
to  camp  for  stretchers  to  carry  the  wounded  Indians  to 
headquarters.  They  were  all  taken  out  that  day.  I do 
not  remember  the  number  of  wounded  bucks  that  were 
in  the  cave,  but  there  were  thirty-two  squaws  and  forty 
children. 

Now  the  bloody  little  Modoc  war  that  had  lasted  so 
long  at  the  cost  of  many  lives,  was  brought  to  an  end. 
This  was  glorious  news  to  the  surviving  ones  among 
the  volunteers,  and  the  next  day  they  were  making 
preparations  to  return  to  their  respective  homes,  of 
rather  Jacksonville,  where  they  would  be  discharged, 
and  they  again  could  say  their  lives  were  their  ( wri. 
This  being  the  last  days  of  June  and  my  services  *:c 
needed  any  more,  I asked  the  General  when  the  hav- 
ing would  take  place.  He  said  that  it  would  be  abo* 
the  twentieth  of  July. 


TAKING  A REST. 


52? 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 


An  interested  boy. — The  execution  of  the  Modoc 
leaders. — Newspaper  messengers. — A very  sud- 
den DEPUTY  SHERIFF. A BAD  MAN  WOUND  UP, 


I went  from  there  to  Yreka  to  rest  up  a while.  Dur- 
ing my  stay  there,  one  morning  while  I was  waiting  for 
my  breakfast,  I was  glancing  over  the  morning  paper, 
when  a bright-eyed  little  boy  about  nine  years  old,  en- 
tered the  restaurant,  walked  up  in  front  of  me  and  said: 
4 ‘Is  this  Capt.  Drannan,  the  scout?”  I said:  “Yes,  my 

little  man.  What  can  I do  for  you?”  He  said:  “I  am 
going  to  school  and  I have  to  write  a composition  to  read 
in  school,  and  my  mother  told  me  to  see  you  and  you 
might  be  able  to  assist  me  in  getting  up  a piece  on  the 
Modoc  war.”  I asked  the  bright  little  fellow  his  name. 
He  said  his  name  was  Johnny  Whitney.  ‘ ‘Where  is 
your  father  and  what  does  he  follow  for  a living?”  “My 
father  is  dead,  and  my  mother  takes  in  washing  to  sup- 
port herself  and  children.” 

That  afternoon  I spent  in  assisting  the  little  fellow  to 
prepare  his  composition.  I remained  there  at  Yreka 
about  ten  days,  during  which  time  I received  a letter 
from  George  Jones,  who  was  then  at  Jacksonville,  re- 
questing me  to  meet  him  at  Fort  Klamath  about  four  or 
five  days  before  the  hanging  was  to  take  place,  and  also 


526 


at  Fort  Klamath. 


requesting  me  to  bring  all  my  saddle  horses.  I succeeded 
in  getting  up  quite  a party  of  business  men  and  citizens 

of  Yreka  and 
w e started 
out  across 
the  Siskiyou 
M o u ntains. 
After  the 
first  d a y’s 
sir*  travel  we 
found  game 
plentiful  and 
we  had  a 
pleasant 
trip.  We 
had  all  the 
game  and 
fish  we  want- 
ed, which 
a ff  o r ded 

plenty  of  amusement  for  the  pleasure-seekers  of  the 
crowd,  which  was  the  main  object  of  this  trip  with  a 
majority  of  them.  We  arrived  at  Fort  Klamath  five 
days  before  the  hanging  was  to  take  place.  The  next 
day  after  we  arrived  a crowd  came  in  from  Jacksonville, 
and  among  them  were  Gen.  Ross,  George  Jones,  J.  N.  T. 
Miller  and  three  newspaper  reporters,  one  of  whom  rep- 
resented the  San  Francisco  Chronicle , one  the  San  Fran- 
cisco Examiner , and  one  the  Chicago  Inter-Ocean.  Col. 
Miller  came  to  me  and  asked  if  I would  like  a job  of 
carrying  dispatches  from  there,  either  to  Jacksonville  or 


“Is  this  Capt.  Drannan,  the  scout?’’ 


GETTING  READY. 


527 


to  Ashland,  saying:  “The  CJwonicle  man  has  not  found 

a man  yet  that  he  could  trust  the  dispatches  with.” 

The  reporter  had  told  Mr.  Miller  that  he  would  pay 
one  hundred  dollars  for  carrying  the  dispatch,  and  in 
case  he  was  first  to  the  office,  he  would  also  pay  one 
hundred  dollars  more  in  addition  to  that.  From  there 
to  Jacksonville  it  was  one  hundred  miles  and  a wagon 
road  all  the  way,  while  to  Ashland  it  was  but  eighty 
miles,  of  which  sixty  miles  was  only  a trail.  This  I had 
passed  once  in  company  with  J.  N.  T.  Miller.  I was 
introduced  to  the  reporter  by  Col.  Miller,  with  whom  I 
soon  made  arrangements  to  carry  his  dispatches.  He 
asked  me  how  long  it  would  take  me  to  ride  to  Ash- 
land. I told  him  I thought  it  would  take  about  eight 
hours  with  my  three  horses.  He  said  if  I went  to  Ash- 
land I would  have  no  competition  on  the  trail  as  the 
other  riders  were  both  going  to  Jacksonville. 

The  day  before  the  hanging  was  to  take  place  I hired 
a young  man  to  take  two  of  my  horses  and  go  out  on  the 
trail,  instructing  him  to  leave  one  of  them  picketed  out 
at  Cold  Springs,  and  the  other  one  to  take  to  Bald 
Mountain,  which  was  thirty  miles  from  Ashland.  At 
this  place  I wanted  Black  Bess,  and  he  was  to  stay  there 
with  her  until  I came  and  to  return,  get  my  other  horse, 
and  meet  me  at  Jacksonville. 

When  the  time  arrived  for  the  hanging  and  the  pris- 
oners were  led  to  the  scaffold,  each  dispatch  carrier  was 
mounted  and  standing  on  the  outer  edge  of  the  crowd, 
ready  at  the  moment  he  received  the  dispatch  to  be  off 
at  once.  When  the  four  Indians  were  led  upon  the 
scaffold  to  meet  their  doom,  each  of  them  were  asked, 


528 


THE  HANGING. 


through  an  interpreter,  whether  or  not  he  wished  to  say 
anything  before  being  hung,  but  they  all  shook  their 
heads  with  the  exception  of  Captain  Jack,  who  informed 
them  that  he  had  something  to  say. 

He  said:  “I  would  like  for  my  brother  to  take  my 

place  and  let  me  live  so  I can  take  care  of  my  wife  and 
little  girl.  ” 

The  carrier  for  the  Inter-Ocean  was  the  first  to  get 
his  dispatch,  the  Examiner  the  second,  I receiving  mine 
just  as  the  last  Indian  was  hung,  and  now  for  the  race  to 
see  who  gets  there  first.  It  was  eleven  o’clock  when  we 


the  wagon  road  and  On  the  outer  edge  of  the  crowd,  ready  to  be  off. 
took  the  trail  for 


Ashland.  Now  I had  sixty  miles  to  ride  over  a trail 
and  they  had  eighty  miles  over  a wagon  road.  At  this 


ride  to  Ashland. 


529 


junction  where  the  trail  left  the  wagon  road  I bade  the 
other  couriers  good-day,  telling  them  that  in  case  they 
beat  me  they  must  treat  to  the  oysters  when  we  met  at 
Jacksonville,  and  I sped  away  and  lost  no  time  in  get- 
ting from  there  to  Cold  Springs,  where  I found  my  other 
horse  picketed  out  as  I had  ordered.  I dismounted, 
threw  my  saddle  on  the  other  horse,  which  was  appar- 
ently feeling  fine,  mounted  him  and  was  off  again,  leav- 
ing the  other  horse  picketed  at  the  same  place,  so  my 
man  could  get  him  on  his  return.  My  horse  took  a long 
sweeping  gallop  and  kept  it  up  for  about  twelve  miles, 
by  which  time  he  was  beginning  to  sweat  quite  freely, 
and  I commenced  to  urge  him  and  put  him  down  to  all 
I thought  he  would  stand.  When  I came  in  sight  of 
Black  Bess  she  raised  her  head  and  whinnied  to  me. 
The  young  man  was  lying  asleep  and  holding  her  rope, 
while  she  was  grazing  near  him.  Again  I changed  my 
saddle  from  my  other  horse  to  Black  Bess,  and  gave  the 
young  man  instructions  to  start  at  once  and  lead  my 
horse  slowly  so  as  to  prevent  him  from  cooling  off  too 
fast.  I mounted  Black  Bess  and  now  I was  on  the 
homestretch.  1 did  not  urge  her  any  for  the  first  few 
miles  until  she  commenced  sweating  freely,  after  which  I 
commenced  to  increase  her  speed,  and  fifteen  minutes 
after  six  I rode  up  to  the  telegraph  office  and  handed  my 
dispatch  to  the  operator,  who  started  it  on  the  wire  at 
once.  I led  my  mare  up  and  down  the  streets  to  prevent 
her  from  cooling  off  too  quick,  and  when  it  was  known 
where  I was  from,  everybody  in  town  had  about  forty 
questions  to  ask  relative  to  the  hanging  of  the  four 
Modoc  braves. 


530 


A QUICK  TRIP, 


On  leaving  the  telegraph  office  I asked  the  operator 
to  let  me  know  when  the  first  dispatch  started  from 
Jacksonville,  and  while  at  supper  he  came  in  and  told 


me  that  the  Examiner  had  just  started  their  dispatch 
over  the  wire,  which  was  just  one  and  three-quarter 
hours  behind  me  in  getting  to  the  office.  The  next  day 


taken  to  Florida. 


53i 


I rode  to  Jacksonville,  and  the  day  following  the  bal- 
ance of  the  crowd  came  in  from  the  fort.  Among  them 
were  the  three  reporters,  all  well  pleased  with  the  time 
their  bearers  had  made  in  carrying  their  dispatches,  and 
that  night  we  all  had  what  in  those  days  we  used  to 
term  “a-way-up  time.” 

The  balance  of  the  Indians  who  were  taken  prisoners 
in  this  Modoc  war  were  afterwards  taken  to  Florida  and 
placed  on  a small  reservation,  which,  I presume,  was 
done  on  account  of  the  bitter  feeling  that  existed  among 
the  people  of  that  section  of  the  country  toward  this 
tribe  on  account  of  the  assassination  of  Gen.  Canby,  Col. 
Thomas  and  George  Meeks,  the  interpreter,  as  well  as 
the  many  other  people  that  were  murdered  on  Lost  river 
and  Tule  Lake. 

While  at  Jacksonville  a man  came  to  me  named 
Martin,  who  was  a meichant  and  resided  in  Oakland, 
Cal.,  who  wanted  to  hire  me  to  go  out  in  the  mountains 
some  twenty  miles  from  Jacksonville  and  look  after  a man 
named  McMahon,  saying:  “There  must  be  something 

wrong  with  McMahon,  for  he  is  the  most  punctual  man 
I ever  dealt  with;  he  promised  to  be  here  three  weeks 
ago  to  pay  a certain  party  fifty  dollars,  but  has  not  been 
seen  nor  heard  from  since.” 

McMahon  owned  a band  of  sheep  and  was  ranging 
them  out  in  the  mountains.  Mr.  Martin  gave  me  direc- 
tions, and  the  next  morning  I started  out  for  the  sheep 
ranch.  I had  no  trouble  in  finding  the  place,  but  the 
cabin  and  surroundings  showed  that  no  one  lived  there. 
I spent  the  balance  of  this  day  and  the  next  in  riding 


532 


LOOKING  FOR  McMAHON. 


over  the  sheep  range,  but  could  see  no  one,  and  only 
about  twenty  head  of  sheep. 

On  my  return  to  Jacksonville  I went  by  way  of 
Bybee’s  ferry,  on  Rogue  river,  and  learned  that  about 
three  weeks  previous  to  that  time  a band  of  two  thousand 
head  of  sheep  had  crossed  over  the  ferry,  driven  by  two 
men.  Now  it  was  almost  a foregone  conclusion  that 
some  one  had  murdered  McMahon  and  driven  his  band 
of  sheep  away,  and  when  I returned  to  Jacksonville  there 
was  no  little  excitement  about  the  city  in  regard  to  Mc- 
Mahon. Some  of  the  business  men  and  citizens  with 
whom  I was  well  acquainted,  prevailed  upon  me  to  ac- 
cept an  appointment  as  deputy  sheriff,  and  start  out  and 
track  the  band  of  sheep  up  if  possible  and  capture  the 
thieves  and  murderers,  the  sheriff  himself  being  very  busy 
just  at  that  time,  it  being  near  time  for  court  to  sit  in 
that  county.  After  receiving  my  appointment  and  tak- 
ing the  oath  of  office,  I struck  directly  for  Bybee’s  ferry, 
and  for  the  first  twenty  miles  beyond  the  ferry  I expe- 
rienced no  trouble  whatever  in  keeping  track  of  the 
sheep,  finding  a number  of  people  who  had  seen  them, 
and  all  gave  the  same  description  of  the  two  men  who 
were  driving  them. 

Leaving  the  settlement,  I went  into  the  mountains, 
spent  five  days  tracking  sheep  here  and  there  in  every 
direction  between  Rogue  river  and  Umpqua.  Finally 
they  struck  off  on  to  the  breaks  of  the  Umpqua  and  were 
soon  in  the  settlement  again,  and  I was  able  to  get  the 
description  of  the  two  men,  which  coincided  with  the 
description  given  by  others. 

I found  the  sheep  within  about  twelve  miles  of  Can- 


? 


FOUND  THE  SHEEP. 


533 


yonville,  and  a young  man  was  herding  them  who  I soon 
learned  to  be  what  might  be  called  a half  idiot.  He  told 
me  that  his  name  was  Buckley.  I had  quite  a pleasant 
chat  with  him  and  spent  about  two  hours  with  him, 
lounging  around,  talking  about  his  sheep.  I asked  if  he 
had  raised  his  sheep,  and  where  his  winter  range  was. 

He  said  he  had  not  owned  the  sheep  but  a short  time. 
I asked  him  if  he  had  bought  them  here  in  this  country. 
He  said  he  had  not,  but  got  them  on  the  other  side  of 
the  mountain  in  the  Rogue  river  country.  I asked  him 
if  he  owned  them  alone,  whereupon  he  informed  me  that 
he  had  a partner  in  the  sheep  business.  I asked  him 
what  his  partner’s  name  was,  and  he  told  me  it  was  John 
Barton.  I'  asked  where  his  partner  lived,  and  he  said 
that  he  lived  down  on  the  Umpqua  river  and  was  run- 
ning a ferry. 

Now  I was  satisfied  that  I had  found  the  sheep  and 
one  of  the  men  and  as  good  as  got  the  other  one  where 
I could  put  my  hand  on  him  at  any  time.  I rode  down 
to  Canyonville  and  telegraphed  Mr.  Manning,  the  sheriff, 
that  I had  found  the  sheep  and  one  of  the  men  and  had 
the  other  one  located.  He  answered  me  by  saying  that 
I would  have  help  the  following  day  from  Roseburg,  that 
being  the  county  seat  of  Douglas  county,  which  is  six- 
teen miles  from  Canyonville,  where  I then  was  and  which 
was  in  the  same  county.  I waited  patiently  the  next 
day  for  assistance,  but  it  did  not  come.  Late  that  even- 
ing I went  to  the  constable  of  that  precinct  and  asked 
him  to  go  with  me  and  assist  in  making  the  arrest,  but 
he  refused,  saying:  “That  man  Barton  is  a hard  case. 

I don’t  want  to  have  anything  to  do  with  him.”  I did 


534 


Barton’s  Ferry. 


not  tell  him  the  particulars  of  the  case,  and  I must  admit 
that  I did  not  know  enough  of.  civil  law  to  know  that  it 
was  necessary  for  me  to  be  armed  with  a warrant  to  go 
and  make  the  arrest.  On  the  refusal  of  the  constable  to 
accompany  me,  I at  once  walked  down  to  the  stable  and 
ordered  my  horse  saddled,  and  inquired  the  way  to  John 
Barton’s  place.  The  proprietor  of  the  stable  told  me 
how  to  go. 

So  concluding  to  tackle  him  alone,  I mounted  my 
horse  just  after  dark  and  started  for  Barton’s  Ferry.  I 
found  the  place  without  difficulty,  and  although  I rode 
very  slowly,  I got  to  the  river  some  time  before  daylight. 
I tied  my  horse  in  the  brush  and  walked  the  road  until 
daylight.  As  soon  as  it  was  daylight  I saw  the  house  on 
the  other  side  of  the  river,  and  kept  my  eye  on  it  until 
just  before  sunrise,  when  I saw  the  smoke  commence  to 
curl  up  from  the  chimney,  and  in  about  fifteen  minutes  I 
saw  a man  come  out  in  his  shirt  sleeves  and  bare-headed. 
I at  once  mounted  my  horse  and  rode  down  to  the  river 
and  halloed  for  him  to  bring  the  boat  over  as  I wished 
to  cross  the  river.  He  answered  by  saying:  “I’ll  be 

there  in  a minute  as  soon  as  I get  my  hat  and  coat.”  He 
stepped  into  the  house,  got  his  hat  and  coat  and  came 
across.  When  he  landed  I walked  on  to  the  boat  and 
asked  if  he  was  Mr.  Barton.  He  said  that  was  his  name, 
and  in  a second  he  was  looking  down  the  muzzle  of  my 
pistol,  and  I informed  him  that  he  was  my  prisoner.  He 
asked  me  what  for.  I said  for  the  murdering  of  Mc- 
Mahon. 

“Have  they  found  the  body?”  were  the  first  words 
that  fell  from  his  lips,  which  he  doubtless  would  not 


Barton  arrested. 


535 


have  uttered  ha’d  I not  caught  him  off  his  guard.  I told 
him  they  had,  which  was  false. 


I informed  him  that  he  was  my  prisoner. 


“You  want  to  take  me  away  with  you  and  not  let  me 
see  my  wife  and  bid  her  good-bye?” 


536 


Barton  arrested. 


I informed  him  that  I would,  telling  him  that  she 
could  come  to  see  him  if  she  liked.  He  offered  all  man- 
ner of  excuses  to  get  back  to  his  house.  After  I had 
listened  awhile  I gave  him  two  minutes  to  get  off  the 
boat  and  take  the  road,  which  he  did  at  once.  I did  not 
try  to  put  the  handcuffs  on  him  alone,  not  wishing  to 
give  him  any  drop  on  me  whatever. 

I made  him  take  the  road  ahead  of  me,  and  we 
started  on  our  way  for  Jacksonville.  After  we  had  gone 
some  two  miles  in  the  direction  of  Canyonville  an  old 
gentleman  and  his  son  overhauled  us  with  a wagon,  and 
I had  the  old  man  put  the  handcuffs  on  him,  after  which 
I allowed  him  to  get  into  the  wagon  with  the  other  two 
men  and  ride  to  Canyonville.  When  I put  him  in  the 
little  lock-up  which  they  had  there  for  such  occasions  and' 
went  and  hunted  up  the  constable  and  asked  him  to  look 
after  Barton  until  I would  return.  I could  get  no  satis- 
faction from  him,  so  I went  to  a merchant  in  town  and 
related  the  whole  circumstance  to  him  and  asked  him  to 
keep  a watch  or  tell  me  of  some  one  whom  I could  hire 
to  look  after  him  that  I could  rely  upon.  He  assured 
me  that  he  would  look  after  a man,  put  him  there  to 
watch  and  then  we  would  be  sure  that  he  would  be  safe. 

I then  mounted  my  horse  and  was  off  for  Buckley,  whc 
I found  without  difficulty,  arrested  him,  and  started  on 
my  way  back  to  Canyonville. 

He  came  so  near  admitting  the  crime  that  I was  sure. 
I had  the  two  guilty  men.  I got  back  with  my  prisoner 
just  in  time  to  take  the  stage  for  Jacksonville.  Leaving 
my  horse  at  the  livery  stable,  I instructed  the  liveryman 
to  send  him  at  once  to  Jacksonville  and  I would  pay  all 


TAKEN  TO  JAIL. 


537 


charges.  I handcuffed  both  prisoners  and  had  them 
shackled  together,  put  them  in  the  stage  and  started  to 
Jacksonville  with  them.  I wired  the  sheriff  that  I had 
both  of  the  guilty  parties  and  would  be  at  Jacksonville 
on  the  stage,  which  was  due  about  six  o’clock  the  next 
morning. 

The  sheriff  and  his  deputies  met  us  that  morning  at 
the  edge  of  town.  It  had  been  noised  around  that  I 
would  be  in  and  they  were  somewhat  afraid  of  a mob, 
but  we  succeeded  in  getting  to  the  jail  all  safe,  and  not 
until  then  had  I the  faintest  idea  that  I had  stepped  be- 
yond my  official  duty  in  arresting  those  men  without  a 
warrant  and  bringing  them  into  another  county. 

These  were  the  first  white  prisoners  that  I had  ever 
had  any  experience  with.  I had  taken  so  many  Indian 
prisoners  that  never  required  any  red  tape,  I naturally 
supposed  that  the  same  rule  would  be  applicable  in  this 
case,  but  I got  away  with  it  just  the  same.  That  after- 
noon we  took  the  young  man  off  to  himself,  and  when  he 
was  questioned  by  the  district  attorney  and  a certain 
doctor,  whose  name  has  slipped  my  memory,  he  ad- 
mitted the  whole  affair,  and  told  us  just  where  to  go  to 
find  McMahon’s  body.  When  he  told  us  this  the  doctor 
drew  a diagram  of  the  ground.  Buckley  said  we  would 
find  a tree  a certain  distance  from  the  cabin  that  had 
been  blown  out  by  the  roots,  and  in  that  hole  we  would 
find  the  body  covered  up  with  brush  and  chips  thrown  on 
top  of  the  brush.  After  giving  this  valuable  information 
we  at  once  started  out  to  hunt  for  the  body. 

It  was  now  late  in  August  and  a little  snow  had  fallen 
on  the  mountains  in  the  fore  part  of  the  night. 


S38 


FOUND  THE  DEAD  BODV. 


By  the  aid  of  the  diagram  we  went  to  the  ground  after 
night,  built  up  a fire  and  waited  till  morning.  As  soon 
as  it  was  light  enough  to  see,  the  doctor  took  the  dia- 
gram out  of  his  pocket,  looked  at  it  and  said:  “It  should 
be  near  here.”  He  then  turned,  and  seeing  a tree  that 
had  been  blown  over,  said:  “There  is  a tree  that 

answers  to  the  description.”  We  walked  to  the  tree  and 
at  once  saw  the  toe  of  one  of  the  dead  man’s  boots  pro- 
truding through  the  brush.  The  doctor  when  gathering 
wood  the  night  before  to  build  a fire,  had  walked  almost 
over  the  body  and  had  picked  up  two  or  three  chips  of 
wood  from  the  brush  which  covered  the  body.  We 
waited  some  time  before  the  crowd  came  with  the  wagon. 
After  they  arrived  the  body  was  uncovered,  loaded  into 
the  wagon  and  hauled  to  Jacksonville,  arriving  in  time 
for  the  coroner  to  hold  the  inquest  that  afternoon,  and 
the  following  day  the  body  was  buried. 

The  time  having  been  set  for  the  preliminary  exami- 
nation, Barton’s  wife  and  her  father  arrived  in  Jackson- 
ville the  day  before  the  time  set  for  the  trial,  and  his 
father-in-law  employed  an  attorney  to  conduct  the  case 
in  court  in  his  behalf.  When  Barton  was  brought  into 
court  he  waived  examination,  but  it  was  quite  different 
with  Buckley.  When  he  was  brought  in  for  trial  the 
judge  asked  him  if  he  had  counsel.  He  said  he  did  not, 
nor  did  he  want  any,  but  the  judge  appointed  a lawyer 
to  take  his  case. 

The  lawyer  took  the  prisoner  off  into  a room  in  com- 
pany with  the  deputy  sheriff  and  they  were  gone  about 
twenty  minutes.  When  they  returned  the  lawyer  stated 
that  the  prisoner  wished  to  plead  guilty  and  receive  his 


STARVED  HIMSELF. 


539 


sentence  so  he  could  start  in  at  once  to  work  it  out. 
Barton  never  had  a trial,  for  he  starved  himself  to  death 
and  died  in  jail.  The  jailor  told  me  that  for  seventeen 
days  he  did  not  or  drink  but  one  spoonful  of  soup. 


CHAPTER  XL. 


In  society  some  more. — A very  tight  place. — Ten 
pairs  of  Yankee  ears. — Black  Bess  shakes  her- 
self AT  THE  RIGHT  TIME. A SOLEMN  COMPACT. 


I remained  in  Jacksonville  until  about  the  first  of  De- 
cember, 1874,  when  I received  a letter  from  Lieut.  Jack- 
son,  who  was  yet  at  Fort  Yuma,  Ariz.,  stating  that  there 
was  an  opening  for  me  there,  and  asking  me  if  I knew 
where  George  Jones  was  at  that  time,  and  telling  me  if 
possible  to  have  him  accompany  me,  as  he  would  insure 
us  both  employment  in  the  scouting  field  upon  our 
arrival. 

George  was  now  living  twelve  miles  from  Jackson- 
ville. Being  sick  and  tired  of  idling  away  my  time 
around  town,  I rode  out  to  pay  George  and  his  parents  a 

friendly  visit  before  taking  my  leave  for  Arizona.  I found 


540 


WE  ARRIVE  IN 


them  in  rather  good  circumstances  on  a small  farm  cn 
Bear  creek,  near  Phoenix,  and  a pleasant  visit  I had 
with  them  at  their  beautiful  little  home,  during  which 
time  I showed  the  letter  to  George  that  I had  received 
from  Lieut.  Jackson.  He  expressed  a desire  to  accom- 
pany me  on  the  trip,  but  as  his  parents  were  now  get- 
ting old  and  childish,  he  did  not  like  to  leave  without 
their  consent,  he  being  their  only  son. 

Two  days  later  George  informed  me  that  he  had  the 
consent  of  his  father  and  mother  to  go  to  Arizona,  to  be 
gone  one  year,  after  which  time  he  was  going  to  quit  the 
business  for  all  time.  But  we  have  quit  the  business  be- 
fore, and  then  I related  the  conversation  I had  with  Jim 
Bridger  some  years  previous  at  the  time  I first  made  up 
my  mind  to  quit  the  scouting  field. 

The  time  being  set  for  the  start,  I returned  to  Jack- 
sonville for  my  other  two  horses,  clothing,  bedding  and 
other  traps  such  as  belong  to  an  old  scout.  All  being  in 
readiness,  we  bade  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jones  good-bye  and 
started  on  our  way  for  Arizona  and  aimed  to  reach  San 
Francisco  by  Christmas.  We  had  five  horses  in  our 
outfit,  I having  three  and  George  two.  We  arrived  in 
San  Francisco  on  the  twenty-first  of  December. 

The  next  morning  we  were  walking  up  Kearney  street 
near  the  Lick  House  when  we  met  the  reporter  for  the 
Chronicle  who  I had  ridden  for  at  the  time  of  the  hang- 
ing of  Captain  Jack  and  associates  at  Fort  Klamath. 
The  reporter  expressed  himself  as  being  very  glad  to 
meet  us,  and  insisted  on  our  taking  a stroll  over  to  the 
Chronicle  office  and  meet  the  proprietors  of  the  paper, 


San  Francisco. 


54i 


whose  names  were  DeYoung,  their  being  three  brothers 
of  them. 

As  we  had  not  changed  our  clothing,  having  our  trav- 
eling suits  on  I insisted  on  deferring  the  matter  until  the 
next  day,  but  this  he  would  not  hear  to.  As  that  would 
not  work  I tried  another  plan  by  telling  him  that  we  had 
not  yet  had  our  breakfast,  but  he  told  us  that  he  had  no; 
yet  been  to  breakfast,  and  proposed  that  the  three  of  us 
take  breakfast  together,  or  rather  invited  George  and  I 
to  take  breakfast  with  him,  which  we  did,  seeing  that 
there  was  no  chance  to  evade  him. 

After  breakfast  we  accompanied  him  to  the  Chronicle 
office,  whice  at  that  time  was  located  on  the  corner  of 
Kearney  and  Pine  streets,  and  here  we  met  all  three  of 
the  DeYoung  brothers.  After  being  introduced  to  them 
and  spending  some  two  hours  with  them,  Charles  De- 
Young, the  eldest  of  the  three  brothers,  gave  us  a cor- 
dial invitation  to  take  dinner  with  him  at  his  own  resi- 
dence, saying  that  dinner  would  be  ready  at  six  o’clock. 
This,  I think,  was  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  I had 
ever  heard  a six  o’clock  meal  called  dinner.  Thanking 
him  for  the  kind  offer  I excused  myself  as  1 was  in  my 
traveling  suit,  and  the  very  thought  of  entering  the  pri- 
vate residence  of  one  of  the  popular  men  of  the  city 
almost  paralized  me.  But  my  excuses  were  all  fruitless. 
He  would  not  even  consider  “No”  as  answer,  and  some 
of  them  were  with  us  until  time  for  dinner,  as  he  termed 
it,  but  what  I would  have  called  supper. 

With  as  bold  a front  as  possible  we  accompanied  Mr. 
DeYoung  to  his  residence,  which  we  found  to  be  a fine 
mansion  on  California  street.  On  arriving  at  his  resi- 


542 


arrive  at  Fort  Yuma. 


dence  we  met  there  some  ten  or  tweve  other  guests,  both 
ladies  and  gentlemen.  Now  the  reader  can  have  a faint 
idea  of  the  embarrassing  position  in  which  we  were  both 
placed  at  that  moment,  and  I can  truthfully  say  that  at 
the  moment  I entered  that  mansion  I would  have  given 
three  months’  wages  to  have  been  away  from  there. 
George  Jones  had  on  buckskin  breeches  and  I had  on  a 
backskin  suit,  while  the  guests  were  dressed  in  style.  I 
tried  to  offer  some  apology,  but  at  every  attempt  it 
seemed  that  I only  made  a bad  matter  worse. 

We  were  treated  with  the  greatest  respect  while  at 
this  place,  and  were  asked  many  questions  by  the  other 
guests  relative  to  the  Modoc  war,  the  capturing  of  Cap- 
tain Jack,  etc.,  and  the  following  morning  quite  an  arti- 
cle came  out  in  the  Chronicle  concerning  George  Jones 
and  myself  relative  to  the  position  we  held  in  the  Modoc 
war. 

We  remained  there  until  the  last  day  of  December, 
on  which  day  wq  started  again  on  our  journey  for  Ari- 
zona, via  Salinas,  Santa  Barbara  and  Los  Angeles.  Here 
we  lay  over  and  let  our  horses  rest  four  days,  after  which 
we  proceeded  on  our  journey  via  San  Diego,  which  at 
that  time  was  a very  small  place.  From  there  we  struck 
for  the  Colorado  river  and  followed  down  the  river  to 
Fort  Yuma. 

This  route  we  took  in  order  to  avoid  crossing  any  of 
those  sand  deserts.  We  were  about  five  weeks  making 
the  trip,  and  reached  Fort  Yuma  without  any  accident 
□r  mishap  whatever,  and  learned  that  the  Indians  were 
worse  in  Arizona  than  when  we  left  them  several  years 


CHIEF  OF  SCOUTS. 


543 


before,  as  they  were  most  all  armed  with  rifles,  instead 
of  bows  and  arraws,  and  many  of  them  had  pistols. 

Lieut.  Jackson  told  me  he  had  lost  more  men  the  last 
year  out  than  in  any  other  two  seasons  since  he  had  been 
in  Arizona.  He  had  received  orders  to  take  four  hundred 
cavalrymen  and  one  hundred  infantrymen  and  go  into 
the  mountains  and  follow  the  Indians  from  place  to  place 
the  coming  season.  The  Lieutenant  told  me  that  there 
had  been  a settlement  started  the  last  year  about  ninety 
miles  from  the  line  of  Arizona  and  Senora,  Mexico,  and 
they  were  not  only  troubled  with  the  Indians,  but  the 
Mexicans  also  came  in  there  and  stole  their  stock  and  run 
it  across  the  line. 

Gen.  Crook  was  still  in  charge  of  the  command,  and 
wanted  me  to  accompany  Lieut.  Jackson,  saying:  ‘T 

do  not  expect  you  to  do  any  hard  service  yourself,  but 
want  you  to  take  charge  of  the  scout  force  and  handle  it 
to  suit  yourself.” 

If  my  memory  serves  me  right,  it  was  in  the  latter 
part  of  March,  1875,  when  we  made  the  start  for  the 
mountains.  For  the  first  hundred  miles  our  supplies 
were  hauled  on  wagons,  but  the  balance  of  the  way  they 
had  to  be  packed  on  animals. 

On  our  way  out  we  passed  near  Salt  River  Valley, 
that  being  settled  up  now  with  Americans.  I started  to 
ride  out  to  the  settlement  to  ascertain  something  of  the 
nature  of  the  depredations  committed  there  lately.  I 
dressed  in  teamster’s  clothing  and  tied  a pair  of  blankets 
behind  my  saddle  before  starting  to  the  settlement.  It 
was  late  in  the  evening,  just  about  sunset,  and  I was  rid- 
ing  leisurely  along,  being  within  six  or  seven  miles  of  the 


544  nz.^7 

semement,  when  suddenly  I came  upon  three  Meccans, 
just  cooking  supper.  They  saw  me  as  quick  as  I saw 

them,  and  I 
thought  I was 
in  for  it.  I 
was  too  near 
them  to  at- 
tempt to  get 
away,  so  all 
that  I could 
do  was  to 
make  the 
best  I could 
of  it,  take  my 
chances  and 
trust  to  luck. 
When  I rode 
up  I spoke  to 
them  in  my 
own  language 
and  one  big 
burley  look- 

t came  opon  three  Mexicans  cooking  supper.  ing  Mexican 

said:  “No  in- 

detenda  English,”  meaning  I don’t  understand  English. 
They  then  asked  me  in  their  tongue  if  I spoke  Spanish, 
which  I understood  as  well  as  they  did,  but  I shook  my 
head  as  if  I could  not  understand  a word  they  said. 

I dismounted,  untied  the  blankets  from  behind  my 
saddle,  threw  them  down  near  the  fire  on  which  they 
were  cooking  supper,  but  did  not  unsaddle  my  mare.  I 


TEN  PAIRS  OF  EARS. 


545 


was  riding  Black  Bess,  and  one  of  them  got  up  and 
walked  around  her  and  examined  her  closely,  and  when 
he  returned  to  the  fire  he  said:  “Esta  ismo  muya  wano 

cavia,”  meaning  that  is  a good  horse.  Another  one  in 
the  crowd  said  he  had  in  his  pocket  just  ten  pairs  of 
ears  that  he  had  taken  from  the  heads  of  Yankees,  and 
this  would  make  the  eleventh  pair.  Now  I thought  my 
time  had  come,  but  I had  been  in  tight  places  before  and 
had  always  managed  in  some  way  to  get  out. 

While  it  looked  very  blue,  still  1 made  up  my  mind 
that  when  it  came  to  the  worst  I would  get  at  least  one 
or  two  of  them  while  they  were  doing  me  up.  I did  not 
pretend  to  pay  any  attention  to  their  conversation,  yet  at 
the  same  time  I could  understand  all  that  was  uttered  by 
them.  I learned  that  there  were  ten  in  the  gang,  and 
the  other  seven  had  gone  that  night  to  the  settlement  for 
the  purpose  of  stealing  horses,  and  were  liable  to  return 
at  any  time,  While  I was  lying  there  on  my  blankets 
I heard  them  lay  their  plans  to  kill  me  in  case  I went  to 
sleep,  or  if  I got  up  and  started  to  my  horse  they  were 
to  shoot  me  before  I got  away.  Now  the  reader  can  rest 
assured  that  this  was  getting  to  be  a serious  affair  with 
me,  for  I knew  that  these  Mexicans  could  handle  a pistol 
with  good  success,  while  they  are  as  a rule  experts  with 
a knife,  the  latter  being  a Mexican  stand-by.  This  was 
a little  the  closest  place  that  I had  ever  been  in.  If  i 
attempted  to  leave  they  would  kill  me  as  sure  as  I made 
the  start;  if  I stayed  there  until  the  other  seven  re- 
turned, then  I would  not  have  a ghost  of  a show  for  my 
life. 

I laid  there  by  the  fire  as  though  I was  worn  out  en- 


546 


Black  Bess  shakes  herself. 


tirely,  listening  to  their  talk,  and  more  than  once  heard 
the  big  rough-looking  Mexican  boast  of  a pair  of  Yankee 
ears  that  he  would  take  from  my  head. 

Their  supper  being  ready,  they  sat  down  to  eat,  but 
did  not  invite  me  to  sup  with  them.  They  all  three  ate 
out  of  the  same  frying  pan  and  poured  their  coffee  out  in 
tin  cups.  Two  of  them  had  their  backs  turned  toward 
me,  while  the  other  one  sat  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
frying  pan  that  they  were  eating  out  of  and  facing  me, 
but  they  were  paying  but  little  attention  to  me.  Black 
Bess  was  feeding  close  by  and  on  the  opposite  side  of 
them  from  where  I lay.  Now  I made  up  my  mind  that 
I would  make  a desperate  effort  to  extricate  myself  from 
this  trap,  for  to  stay  there  I knew  meant  death  and  I 
would  rather  take  my  chances  with  those  three  than  with 
the  entire  gang.  They  were  all  sitting  flat  on  the  ground, 
each  had  a pistol  on  him  and  their  guns  all  lay  within  a 
few  feet  of  them.  My  only  show  for  escape  was  to  kill 
two  of  them  at  the  first  shot  and  then  I would  have  an 
equal  show  with  the  other  one,  but  now  was  the  particu- 
lar part  of  the  work.  Just  one  false  move  and  the  jig 
was  up  with  me,  but  it  was  getting  time  that  I should  be 
at  work  for  the  other  seven  were  likely  to  be  there  at 
any  moment.  I carefully  reached  around  under  my  coat 
tail  and  got  hold  of  both  of  my  pistols,  and  just  as  I did 
so,  as  good  luck  would  have  it,  Black  Bess  shook  herself 
very  hard  and  caused  them  to  turn  their  eyes  toward  her, 
and  it  could  not  have  happened  in  a better  time.  I was 
on  my  knees  in  an  instant,  and  leveling  a pistol  at  each 
of  the  two  with  their  backs  towards  me,  I fired,  and  be- 
ing almost  near  enough  to  have  touched  either  of  them 


A LUCKY  ESCAPE. 


547 


with  the  point  of  the  pistol,  it  was  a sure  thing  that  I 
would  not  miss  them.  After  firing  the  first  two  shots  I 
was  on  my  feet  in  an  instant,  by  which  time  the  third 
man  had  taken  a tumble  to  himself  and  was  on  his  knees 
and  had  his  pistol  about  half  out  when  I fired  both  pis- 
tols at  him  and  he  fell  back  dead.  By  this  time  one  of 
the  others  had  staggered  to  his  feet  and  had  his  pistol 
out,  but,  fortunately,  he  seemed  to  be  blind,  for  he  fired 
his  pistol  in  the  opposite  direction  from  where  I stood. 
I turned  and  dealt  him  his  fatal  dose. 

I tried  to  catch  their  pack  horses  but  missed  one  of 
them,  and  as  time  was  precious,  for  I did  not  know  what 
moment  the  seven  would  come,  I took  their  rifles,  broke 
the  stocks  off  of  them,  took  their  pistols  along  with  me, 
mounted  Black  Bess,  rounded  up  their  horses  and  started 
for  the  train,  and  I lost  no  time  in  getting  there,  and  as 
I sped  across  the  country  on  Black  Bess  after  the  nine 
captured  animals  I felt  that  I could  congratulate  mysejf 
on  getting  out  of  the  tightest  place  I had  ever  been  in, 
without  even  a scratch. 

When  I arrived  at  camp  and  reported  to  the  Lieuten- 
ant he  at  once  started  two  companies  of  cavalry  out  to 
try  and  cut  the  other  seven  off,  instructing  them  to  watch 
every  trail  and  every  watering  place  within  fifty  miles, 
closely. 

I changed  horses  and  started  with  George  Jones  and 
six  other  scouts,  and  the  last  words  that  L.ieut.  Jackson 
said  to  me  as  I was  ready  to  ride  away  was:  4 ‘Don’t 

spare  horse  flesh,  but  run  them  down  Cap,  if  it  is  possi- 
ble, and  let  us  break  up  this  thieving  band.  I would 
rather  kill  one  Mexican  any  time  than  two  Apaches.” 


548 


WE  GAVE  CHASE. 


Across  the  country  we  rode  at  a rapid  rate,  but  were 
not  able  to  reach  the  spot  until  after  daylight.  The  Mex- 
icans had  been  there  ahead  of  us  and  removed  every- 
thing but  their  dead  comrades,  those  they  did  not  at- 
tempt to  remove  or  even  bury,  leaving  them  for  the 
wolves  that  roved  the  country  in  search  of  food. 

We  were  soon  on  their  trail,  which  was  easily  fol- 
lowed, as  they  were  driving  a large  band  of  stock.  About 
the  middle  of  the  afternoon  we  came  in  sight  of  them. 
When  they  first  saw  us  we  were  so  near  them  that  they 
deserted  their  band  of  stock  and  ran  for  their  lives.  We 
gave  chase,  but  could  not  get  any  nearer.  We  followed 
them  until  dark,  our  horses  being  badly  jaded,  and  I had 
now  been  in  the  saddle  for  two  days  and  one  night  in 
succession,  so  we  made  camp  for  the  night.  The  next 
morning  a detail  of  six  men  was  made  to  drive  the  stolen 
stock  back  to  the  settlement  where  it  belonged,  there  be- 
ing some  forty  head  of  horses  and  mules.  The  balance 
of  us  returned  to  the  trail,  lay  over  and  rested  one  day. 
This  put  a stop  to  the  Mexicans  troubling  the  settlement 
for  some  time. 

Pulling  on  for  the  mountains,  the  second  day  we  saw 
the  ruins  of  two  wagons  that  had  been  burned,  but  could 
get  no  trace  of  the  teamsters.  The  supposition  prevailed 
that  they  were  taken  prisoners  by  the  Apaches.  The 
Lieutenant  established  his  headquarters  fifty  miles  from 
where  he  had  his  quarters  when  we  were  out  before,  and 
now  active  work  commenced,  for  there  was  plenty  of  it 
to  be  done. 

We  had  only  been  there  a few  days  when  two  of  my 

scouts  came  in  one  evening  and  reported  having  seen 

% 

r 


discover  Indians. 


549 


about  twenty  Indians  ten  miles  from  camp  and  traveling 
west.  The  scouts  all  being  in,  George  Jones  and  I and 
four  other  scouts  and  one  company  of  cavalry  started  in 
pursuit.  We  had  no  trouble  in  striking  their  trail,  and 
there  being  a good  starlight  that  night  and  the  country 
somewhat  sandy,  we  were  able  to  track  them  easily.  We 
had  not  followed  the  trail  more  than  two  miles  when  we 
passed  over  a ridge,  and  I looked  down  the  valley  ahead 
of  us  and  could  see  the  glimmer  of  their  fire.  Here  the 
soldiers  stopped,  and  I and  my  scouts  went  on  in  the 
direction  of  the  fires,  which  we  supposed  to  be  about 
half  a mile  away  but  which  proved  to  be  nearer  two 
miles.  When  we  were  near  the  camp  we  dismounted 
and  crawled  up.  We  located  the  horses,  which  were 
mostly  standing  still  at  the  time  and  two  or  three  hun- 
dred yards  from  camp.  I “telegraphed”  the  soldiers  to 
come  at  once. 

Taking  the  balance  of  the  scouts  we  rode  slowly  and 
carefully  around,  getting  immediately  between  the  In- 
dian camp  and  their  horses,  I telling  George  Jones  that 
as  soon  as  the  soldiers  started  to  make  their  charge  to 
follow  me  with  the  horses.  But  this  time  the  Indians 
were  awake  before  the  soldiers  were  on  them  and  opened 
fire  on  them,  killing  three  horses  and  wounding  two  the 
first  round,  but  only  one  soldier  was  wounded,  and  the 
sergeant  in  charge  told  me  afterwards  that  he  got  eigh- 
teen Apaches  out  of  the  crowd,  and  we  got  twenty-seven 
horses.  We  got  back  to  headquarters  about  noon  the 
next  day  and  learned  that  Lieut.  Jackson  had  gone  in  a 
different  direction  after  another  band  of  Apaches,  which 
he  overhauled  and  got  twelve  scalps  from  their  number. 


550 


A SURPRISE  PARTY. 


Now  we  started  for  a trip  on  the  east  side  of  Black 
canyon,  six  scouts  and  one  company  of  cavalry,  with 
twenty-two  pack  animals,  calculating  to  be  gone  about 
ten  days.  On  the  fifth  day  of  our  trip  George  Jones, 
myself  and  two  other  scouts  were  riding  leisurely  along 
about  one  mile  in  advance  of  the  command  when  just  as 
we  raised  to  the  top  of  a little  rocky  ridge  we  came  face 
to  face  with  a band  of  Indians,  making  a surprise  to  both 
parties.  I could  not  tell  which  party  fired  first,  but  we 
gave  them  one  round  and  seeing  that  there  were  too 
many  of  them  for  us,  we  wheeled  and  started  back  down 

the  hill.  As  we 
did  so  George 
sang  out:  “My 

horse  is  shot,” 
and  just  at  that 
time  the  horse 
fell.  George 
threw  himself 
clear  of  the  horse 
and  when  he 
struck  the  ground 
he  lit  running, 
and  at  his  best 
licks,  too.  The 
rest  of  us  dropped 
behind  George  to 

Gea.  G.  A.  Custer.  Protect  him  until 

we  were  off  the 

rocky  ground.  The  Indians  held  their  distance  all  the 
way  down  the  hill,  not  stopping  to  reload  their  guns. 


Indians  routed. 


55i 


When  we  were  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  the  three  of  us  that 
were  mounted,  in  order  to  give  George  Jones  a chance  to 
ascend  the  hill,  turned  and  gave  them  another  volley. 
Here  I fired  three  shots  and  got  two  Indians  and  then 
spurred  up  by  the  side  of  George  and  gave  him  a chance 
to  jump  on  behind  me,  which  he  did.  Just  as  we  raised 
to  the  top  of  the  hill  we  met  the  command,  who  had 
heard  our  firing  and  came  to  our  relief,  and  they  met  the 
Indians  face  to  face.  At  this  the  Indians  changed  their 
minds  very  suddenly,  and  it  is  useless  to  say  that  they 
were  on  the  back  track  much  quicker  than  I could  tell  it. 
The  soldiers  went  in  hot  pursuit  of  them  and  got  nine  of 
their  number.  From  there  we  struck  off  in  a south- 
westerly direction,  thinking  that  when  we  struck  the 
main  road  we  might  run  on  to  some  emigrants  en-route 
for  California. 

We  struck  the  main  road  fifty  miles  south  of  the 
Lieutenant’s  quarters.  Here  we  laid  over  two  days, 
thinking  that  there  might  be  an  emigrant  train  come 
along  that  we  could  escort  through  to  headquarters,  this 
part  of  the  road  being  in  the  heart  of  the  Apache  coun- 
try, and  the  most  dangerous  for  emigrants  from  the  fact 
that  it  is  all  a timber  country  and  over  mountains  which, 
in  places,  are  very  rocky,  thereby  giving  the  Indians  all 
advantage  over  the  emigrants. 

The  evening  of  the  second  day,  just  as  we  were  sit- 
ting down  to  supper,  I received  a message  from  Lieut. 
Jackson  for  George  Jones  and  myself  to  come  to  head- 
quarters at  once,  but  he  did  not  state  why  he  required 
our  presence  there.  As  soon  as  supper  was  over  we 
started.  The  dispatch  bearer  thought  it  was  at  least 


552 


A SOLEMN  COMPACT. 


sixty  miles,  but  we  had  supposed  it  was  not  more  than 
fifty,  each  of  us  having  two  saddle  horses. 

At  one  place  on  the  road  the  cayotes  turned  loose, 
and  it  sounded  as  if  there  must  have  been  a hundred,  all 
barking  at  once,  and  George  Jones  remarked:  4 ‘Above 

all  things  that  I have  dreaded  while  in  this  business  is 
being  shot  down  and  left  on  the  plains  for  my  bones  to 
be  picked  up  by  those  sneaking  wolves,  and  now  Cap,  I 
will  make  this  agreement  with  you;  in  case  that  either  of 
us  happen  to  be  killed,  which  is  liable  to  happen  any 
day,  the  surviving  one  is  to  see  that  the  other  is  buried 
if  in  the  bounds  of  possibility.” 

I said:  “George,  we  will  shake  hands  on  that,” 

which  we  did,  and  I added:  “You  can  also  rest  assured 

that  if  ever  you  are  shot  down  while  in  company  with 
me,  no  Indian  will  ever  scalp  you  as  long  as  I have  the 
strength  to  stand  over  your  body,  nor  shall  the  cayotes 
ever  pick  your  bones  if  I live  long  enough  to  see  that 
you  are  buried,”  and  the  reader  will  see  later  on  that 
I kept  my  promise. 


ATTACKED  THE  SETTLEMENT. 


553 


CHAPTER  XLI. 


We  LOCATE  A SMALL  BAND  OF  RED  BUTCHERS  AND  SEND 

THEM  TO  THE  HAPPY  HUNTING  GROUNDS. EMIGRANTS 

MISTAKE  US  FOR  INDIANS. — GEORGE  JONES  WOUNDED, 


Just  at  sunrise  we  made  our  appearance  at  the  Lieu- 
tenant’s quarters,  and  he  informed  us  that  the  Indians 
had  made  an  attack  on  the  settlement  on  the  east  side 
of  the  San  Antonio  desert;  had  killed  two  families,  taken 
two  little  girls  prisoner  and  captured  a lot  of  stock  from 
the  settlers. 

This  report  had  first  reached  Gen.  Crook  at  Fort 
Yuma,  and  he  had  dispatched  the  news  to  Lieut.  Jack- 
son.  This  being  a strange  country  to  the  Lieutenant, 
having  never  been  over  it  and  knowing  that  I had  been 
through  it  twice,  once  with  Uncle  Kit  Carson  and  an- 
other time  in  company  with  Jim  Beckwith,  he  insisted  on 
my  going  out  in  that  section  to  investigate  the  matter 
and  see  whether  or  not  the  report  was  true. 

The  day  following  George  and  I started  with  four 
assistants  for  the  settlement.  Each  of  us  took  two  sad- 
dle horses  and  one  pack  animal  for  each  two  men,  with 
ten  days’  rations.  From  there  to  the  settlement  was 
about  seventy-five  miles. 

Knowing  just  where  the  majority  of  the  Apache  force 
was  concentrated,  we  took  rather  a circuitous  route  in- 


5 54  SAW  A SMALL  BAND. 

stead  of  going  direct  to  the  settlement  in  order  to  ascer- 
tain whether  the  depredations  were  committed  by 
Apaches  or  Pimas. 

The  fifth  day  out  we  struck  the  settlement,  but  did 
not  cross  the  Indian  trail,  which  led  me  to  think  that  the 
work  was  done  by  Pimas  and  not  Apaches. 

When  we  arrived  there  no  one  could  tell  us  how 
many  Indians  there  were  nor  what  they  looked  like,  but 
when  I came  to  find  out  the  truth  of  the  matter  there 
had  been  no  families  massacred,  nor  had  the  two  girls 
been  taken  prisoners,  but  there  had  been  two  boys  killed 
that  were  herding  stock. 

We  remained  there  one  day  in  order  to  learn  what  we 
could  in  regard  to  the  trouble  and  then  struck  the  trail 
of  the  Indians  and  followed  it  two  days,  but  it  was  so 
old  that  we  gave  it  up,  as  it  was  then  twelve  days  since 
the  depredations  were  committed  and  we  knew  that  the 
Indians  were  a long  ways  off  by  that  time.  We  took  a 
different  route  on  our  return,  and  the  second  day  we  saw 
a small  band  of  Indians  traveling  toward  the  settlement, 
which  we  had  left  four  days  previous.  We  started  in 
pursuit  of  them  and  struck  their  trail  before  it  was  dark. 
I was  confident  that  they  would  camp  at  the  first  water 
they  came  to,  which  was  about  seven  or  eight  miles  from 
there,  so  we  staked  our  horses  out  on  good  grass,  sat 
down  and  ate  our  lunch  while  we  waited  for  the  clear 
moon  to  make  its  appearaece  and  light  us  across  the 
country  where  we  might  find  the  noble  red  men  of  the 
plains  and  entertain  them  for  a while  at  least.  We 
thought  that  it  would  take  us  about  all  night  to  track 


SURPRISED  IN  CAMP. 


555 


them  up  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  find  their  camp  and 
play  them  just  one  little  tune  of  “How  came  you  so?” 

Abut  ten  o’clock  the  moon  arose,  but  we  waited  until 
it  was  two  hours  high,  giving  our  horses  a chance  to  fill 
up,  after  which  we  mounted  and  took  the  trail  of  the 
Pimas,  which  we  had  not  great  trouble  in  finding. 

After  we  had  followed  the  trail  about  seven  miles  we 
came  to  their  horses,  but  could  see  no  signs  of  any  camp, 
and  we  at  once  made  up  our  minds  that  the  Indians  were 
not  far  away,  but  that  they  had  either  built  no  fire  or  the 
fire  had  gone  entirely  out,  for  we  could  see  no  signs  of 
any. 

Dismounting,  George  took  one  man  with  him  and  I 
took  one  with  me,  leaving  the  other  two  with  the  horses, 
and  started  out  in  different  directions  to  look  for  their 
camp.  After  wandering  around  about  an  hour  I found 
where  they  were  camped,  and  they  were  sound  asleep  and 
lying  in  a row  but  each  one  separate.  We  then  returned 
to  our  horses  and  in  a short  time  George  came  in.  It 
was  now  getting  high  time  that  we  were  at  work,  for  it 
was  beginning  to  get  daybreak,  so  after  I had  explained 
how  they  laid,  five  of  us  started  for  them,  leaving  one 
man  with  the  horses.  They  were  lying  about  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  yards  from  where  we  had  stopped  with  our 
horses.  We  crawled  up  abreast  until  within  ten  feet  of 
the  Indians,  and  each  scout  drew  both  his  revolvers, 
sprang  to  his  feet,  and  I need  not  say  that  we  made 
quick  work  of  those  redskins.  Only  one  got  to  his  feet, 
and  he  did  not  stand  a second  until  there  were  three  or 
four  bullets  in  his  body,  but  not  one  of  us  got  a scratch 
in  this  fight 


556 


TO  PROTECT  EMIGRANTS. 


Now  the  fun  was  over  and  we  were  not  afraid  to 
speak  out,  so  we  called  out  for  the  man  that  we  left  in 
charge  of  our  horses  to  bring  them  over,  and  we  gathered 
some  wood  and  built  a fire. 

It  had  been  several  days  since  we  had  had  fresh  meat, 
but  the  Pimas  had  been  kind  enough  to  kill  an  antelope 
that  day,  and  as  they  had  only  eaten  of  it  once,  we  had 
a feast  that  morning,  which  we  enjoyed  very  much. 

We  gathered  up  the  guns  and  ammunition  that  be- 
longed to  the  Indians,  which,  by  the  way,  was  the  best 
armed  lot  of  Indians  I had  ever  seen.  Each  one  of  them 
had  a good  rifle  and  a Colt  revolver,  and  one  of  them 
had  the  handsomest  knife  I ever  saw.  Had  we  not  run 
on  to  them  no  doubt  they  would  have  done  some  devil- 
ment in  the  white  settlement  the  following  day.  We 
reached  headquarters  in  three  days. 

It  was  now  time  for  the  emigrants  to  begin  to  travel 
over  the  Butterfield  route,  and  Lieut.  Jackson  started 
one  company  of  cavalry  across  to  the  opposite  side 
of  the  mountain  some  sixty  miles  away  to  protect  the 
emigrants,  and  George  Jones  and  I both  accompanied 
them.  We  established  our  quarters  about  a half  mile 
from  the  road  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains  on  the  south 
side. 

The  next  day  after  we  struck  this  place  George  and  I 
started  out  to  scout  over  the  country  to  see  whether  or 
not  there  were  any  Indians  in  the  country  and  also  ride 
out  on  the  road  and  look  for  emigrants. 

The  second  day  out  we  climbed  to  the  top  of  a high 
ridge,  and  by  looking  through  the  glass  we  could  see  a 
large  emigrant  train  coming,  which  we  thought  to  be 


MISTAKEN  FOR  INDIANS 


557 


about  twenty  miles  distant.  We  knew  very  well  where 
it  would  camp,  and  by  riding  briskly  we  would  be  able  to 
meet  it  by  dark;  so  we  rode  on  and  reached  the  emi- 
grants about  sunset.  They  were  just  corralling  their 
wagons  for  the  night,  and  when  they  saw  us  coming  they 
took  us  for  Indians  and  every  man  went  for  his  gun.  As 
soon  as  we  saw  them  start  for  their  guns  we  both  took 
off  our  hats  and  waved  them  over  our  heads,  when  they 
saw  that  they  were  needlessly  alarmed.  This  train  was 
from  Texas,  and  the  name  of  the  captain  was  Sours,  and 
it  was  beyond  doubt  the  best  organized  train  I ever  saw 
on  the  plains;  everything  seemed  to  move  like  clock 
work. 

When  I told  Capt.  Sours  who  we  were  and  what  our 
business  was  and  that  as  soon  as  they  got  to  our  quarters 
they  would  have  an  escort,  he  said:  “I  am  indeed  very 
glad  to  know  that  there  is  some  protection  out  here  for 
emigrants,  but  as  for  ourselves  we  do  not  need  it  much, 
for  every  man  in  my  train  has  seven  shots,  and  some  of 
them  three  times  that  number.” 

We  stayed  with  them  that  night  and  the  next  morn- 
ing pulled  out  for  our  quarters.  We  remained  there  for 
a month,  but  did  not  see  any  Indians  during  that  time. 

At  the  end  of  the  month  there  came  along  a large 
train  from  Arkansas  and  Texas.  We  escorted  it  across 
the  mountains  expecting  that  this  would  wind  up  the 
emigrant  travel  across  there  for  the  season.  When  we 
arrived  at  Lieut . Jackson’s  quarters  he  started  George 
and  I and  two  other  scouts  out  towards  the  Salt  river 
valley  settlement,  telling  me  that  he  would  move  down 
near  Mrs.  Davis’  ranch  and  there  he  would  wait  until  he 


558 


A CLOSE  CALL. 


should  hear  from  me.  The  third  day  out  we  made  camp 
early  on  account  of  water,  and  after  deciding  on  the  spot 

where  we 
should  pitch 
our  camp  for 
the  night 
George  rode 
off  to  a high 
ridge  near  by 
to  take  a look 
over  the 
country.  He 
was  not  gone 
long  before  he 
made  his  ap- 
pearance rid- 
ing at  full 
speed,  and  an- 
nouced  that 
there  was  a 

large  band  of  Indians  coming  direct  for  our  camp,  and 
would  be  on  to  us  before  we  could  saddle  up  and  get  away. 

‘‘Get  your  horses  boys,”  were  his  first  words,  and 
every  man  made  a rush  for  his  horse,  but  before  we 
could  get  saddled  the  Indians  hove  iri  sight,  and  not  over 
half  a mile  away. 

“There  they  are,”  said  George  as  he  jumped  on  to 
his  horse  again,  “and  there  must  be  at  least  sixty  of 
them.  ” 

I was  not  long  in  making  up  my  mind  what  to  do. 
We  all  got  our  horses  saddled  and  were  mounted  just  in 


Riding  into  camp  at  full  speed. 


George  Jones  wounded. 


559 


the  nick  of  time  to  get  away  for  we  were  not  twenty 
yards  from  camp  when  they  were  close  on  to  us. 

Down  the  ravine  we  went  with  the  Apaches  in  hot 
pursuit  of  us.  I yelled  out  to  the  boys  to  turn  to  the 
left  across  the  ridge  and  when  we  were  over  the  turn  we 
stopped  and  gave  them  a volley,  and  picked  off  the 
leaders  as  they  came  in  sight.  I saw  a number  of  them 
fall,  but  it  did  not  appear  to  check  them  in  the  least. 
They  were  coming  too  thick  and  we  wheeled  and  were 
off  again  with  some  of  them  within  at  least  thirty  yards 
of  us,  but  we  gained  on  them  gradually.  Finally  George 
Jones  sang  out:  “I  am  shot  through  the  arm.”  I reined 
my  horse  up  by  his  side  and  asked  if  his  arm  was  broken. 
He  said  it  was,  and  I could  see  it  was  hanging  down  and 
the  blood  almost  streaming  off  his  fingers.  I asked  if  he 
felt  sick,  and  he  said  he  did  not. 

Of  course  all  the  time  this  conversation  was  going  on 
we  were  putting  our  ho.ses  down  to  their  utmost.  George 
said:  4T  am  all  right  if  I don’t  get  another  shot,”  so  I 

told  him  to  taka  the  lead  and  not  to  spare  his  horse.  I 
also  told  the  other  boys  to  fall  back  to  the  rear  so  we 
could  protect  him,  as  he  was  badly  wounded  and  the  In- 
dians were  holding  their  own  pretty  well. 

On  looking  ahead  I saw  another  little  ridge  and  I 
told  the  boys  that  when  we  were  over  that  to  all  turn 
and  give  them  two  shots  each,  and  for  each  to  be  sure  to 
get  his  Indian.  This  order  was  carried  into  effect  and 
they  were  so  near  us  that  I think  each  shot  did  its  work. 
This  brought  them  to  a halt  and  they  did  not  crowd  us 
any  more;  it  was  soon  dark  and  we  escaped  without  any 
further  mishap. 


560 


WE  GAVE  CHASE. 


After  we  could  hear  no  more  of  them  we  rode  to  the 
top  of  a ridge  where  we  would  have  a chance  to  protect 
ourselves  in  case  of  another  attack,  and  dismounted  to 
ascertain  the  extent  of  George’s  wound,  and  as  the  ex- 
citement died  down  he  commenced  feeling  sick  at  his 
stomach.  I gave  him  a drink  of  whiskey  from  a bottle 
that  I had  carried  in  my  canteen  at  all  seasons,  and  this 
was  the  second  time  the  cork  had  been  drawn  from  the 
flask.  When  we  ,got  his  coat  off  and  examined  his 
wound  we  found  that  the  arm  was  broken  just  below  the 
elbow.  Using  our  handkerchiefs  for  bandages,  we 
dressed  the  hurt  as  best  we  could,  corded  his  arm  to  stop 
the  flow  of  blood  and  then  pulled  out  for  headquarters, 
arriving  there  just  at  daybreak. 

I took  George  to  the  surgeon,  who  set  the  bone  and 
dressed  the  arm  up  “ship  shape,”  after  which  he  gave 
him  something  to  make  him  sleep. 

After  seeing  George  in  bed  I at  once  repaired  to  the 
Lieutenant’s  quarters  and  found  him  just  arising.  He 
asked  me  if  I was  too  tired  to  make  another  chase,  and  I 
told  him  I would  be  ready  as  soon  as  I could  eat  my 
breakfast.  He  said  in  one  hour’s  time  he  would  have 
two  companies  of  cavalry  ready  to  start. 

After  breakfast  I changed  horses,  and  taking  four 
other  scouts,  started  out  to  pilot  the  cavalry  to  where 
we  could  take  the  trail  of  the  Indians.  On  this  trip  each 
scout  took  four  days’  rations,  and  about  one  o’clock  that 
afternoon  we  struck  a plain  trail  that  we  followed  at  a 
lively  gait  until  nearly  dark;  the  scout  force  riding  from 
one  to  two  miles  ahead  so  in  case  we  should  get  in  sight 
of  the  reds  we  could  telegraph  back  to  the  command,  or 


THIRTEEN  FRESH  GRAVES. 


561 

should  the  Indians  attempt  to  give  us  another  chase  we 
might  be  able  to  run  them  up  against  the  soldiers,  where 
they  would  find  amusement  for  a while. 

We  followed  them  for  two  days  but  never  got  sight 
of  them.  They  had  turned  and  made  their  way  back  in 
the  direction  of  Black  canyon  and  we  gave  up  the  chase, 
but  we  were  sure  that  in  the  running  fight  we  had  with 
them  that  evening  we  had  killed  at  least  thirteen,  as  we 
found  that  many  newly  made  graves  when  we  went  back 
to  take  their  trail. 

We  returned  to  headquarters  and  I found  George  do- 
ing splendidly,  and  the  next  day  we  all  pulled  out  for 
Fort  Yuma.  The  first  day’s  travel  took  us  to  Mrs. 
Davis’  This  was  the  first  time  I had  seen  her  or  any  of 
her  family  since  the  next  day  after  the  funeral  of  her 
husband  and  two  sons  in  the  fall  of  1866. 

Mrs.  Davis  insisted  on  George  staying  there  with  them 
until  his  arm  was  well,  which  kind  and  hospitable  offer 
he  accepted,  remaining  two  months.  We  put  in  our 
time  that  winter  as  usual  when  wintering  at  the  foit, 
doing  nothing. 


562 


St.  Louis  Valley. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 


nWE  are  all  surrounded.” — A bold  dash  and  a bad 
wound. — Mrs.  Davis  shows  her  gratitude. — The 
most  of  my  work  now  done  on  crutches. 


It  was  the  last  of  February  or  first  of  March,  1876, 
that  we  started  for  St.  Louis  Valley.  I had  visited  this 
valley  twice,  but  had  come  in  both  times  from  the  oppo- 
site direction  to  which  we  would  have  to  enter  the  valley 
in  going  from  camp,  consequently  I was  at  a loss  to 
know  just  which  direction  to  go  from  camp  to  strike  the 
valley  where  we  wanted  to  enter  it;  but  we  struck  out 
southeast,  taking  twenty  days’  provisions  with  us.  The 
ninth  day  out  we  came  in  sight  of  the  valley  from  the 
west  side.  It  being  about  noon,  water  being  handy  and 
no  end  to  the  grass,  we  stopped  there  for  dinner  and  to 
let  our  horses  graze.  After  I had  taken  a squint  through 
my  glasses,  I called  the  Lieutenant  to  me  and  handed 
them  to  him. 

He  sat  and  looked  for  a long  time,  and  when  he  took 
the  glasses  from  his  eyes  he  said:  4 ‘That  is  beyond  any 

doubt  the  prettiest  sight  I ever  saw  in  my  life.”  There 
were  small  bands  of  bison  scattered  here  and  there  all 
over  the  valley,  elk  by  the  hundreds  and  deer  too  num- 
erous to  mention,  but  not  an  Indian  nor  even  a sign  of 
ope  could  be  seen  in  this  lovely  valley. 


'-fliei, 


A USELESS  TRIP. 


563 


“I  have  made  this  trip  unnecessarily,’’  said  he,  ‘dor 
I had  expected  to  find  many  little  bands  of  Indians  in 


Some  bands  of  bison  scattered  here  and  there. 


this  valley  hunting,  but  in  that  I am  disappointed.”  We 
then  turned  back  for  headquarters  as  quick  as  possible, 
making  the  entire  trip  without  seeing  an  Indian  or  even 
a sign  of  one. 

Some  time  in  June  the  Lieutenant  started  out  in  com- 
mand of  two  companies  of  cavalry  to  cross  the  mountains 
to  protect  the  emigrants,  George  Jones  and  I ahead  with 
four  assistants. 

The  Lieutent  having  told  us  where  he  would  camp 
that  night,  it  was  the  duty  of  the  scouts  to  make  a cir- 
cuit of  the  camp  before  dark.  On  arriving  at  the  ap- 
pointed place,  George  and  I started  to  make  a tour  of 
the  camp,  leaving  the  other  scouts  at  the  camping  place- 

It  was  about  sunset  when  we  saw  a band  of  Indians 
as  we  supposed  about  four  miles  from  where  we  were  to 
camp  that  night,  and  about  one  mile  and  a half  from 
where  we  then  were.  We  put  spurs  to  our  horses  and 
headed  for  the  Indian  camp,  as  we  were  desirous  of  ascer- 


564 


discover  Indians. 


taining  about  their  number  and  getting  the  location  of  the 
ground  before  it  was  too  dark.  When  we  were  within 

about  a quarter 
of  a mile,  it  being 


gi  nearly  dark,  we 
were  just  in  the 
iact  of  tying  our 
horses,  intending 
to  crawl  up  near 
their  camp,  we 
heard  a rumbling 
noise  back  in  the 
direction  from 
which  we  had  j ust 
come.  I crawled 
quickly  around 
the  hill  and  saw 
another  band  of 
Indians  coming 
directly  toward 
u s,  who  were 
making  their  way 
as  we  supposed 
to  where  the 
other  Indians 
were  camped.  I 
got  back  to  my 
horse  in  less  time  than  it  took  me  to  crawl  away  from 
him,  then  we  mounted  and  got  away  as  we  supposed,  un- 
discovered, and  rode  up  a ravine  and  in  a direction  that 
we  would  not  be  seen  by  the  Indians.  Not  thinking  our- 


Another  band  of  Indians  coming  toward  us. 


A BOLD  DASH  AND  A BAD  WOUND. 


565 


selves  in  any  immediate  danger,  we  did  not  hurry.  After 
riding  up  the  ravine  only  a short  distance,  just  as  we 
rounded  a curve,  we  were  brought  face  to  face  with  an- 
other band  of  Indians.  This  was,  I think,  a small  band 
that  had  left  the  main  band  to  hunt  for  game  and  were 
just  getting  into  camp,  but  we  did  not  make  any  in- 
quiries as  to  what  success  they  had  in  hunting,  nor  did 
we  ask  whether  they  had  been  hunting  at  all. 

The  moment  we  saw  them  we  drew  our  pistols  and 
commenced  firing,  and  they  returned  the  fire.  We  were 
almost  entirely  surrounded  by  Indians,  and  I saw  that  it 
was  no  place  for  me,  so  I sang  out  to  George:  “Let’s 

break  through  their  ranks.”  “All  right,”  said  he,  and 
we  drove  the  spurs  into  our  horses  with  all  vengeance, 
riding  about  fifteen  feet  apart  and  succeeding  in  getting 
through  unhurt,  and  away  we  rode  for  quarters,  closely 
followed  by  the  redskins.  Now  we  thought  we  were  safe, 
and  each  in  his  own  mind  was  congratulating  himself, 
when  a ball  struck  me  in  the  left  hip  which  paralyzed  my 
whole  side  and  wrecked  my  whole  nervous  system.  I 
sang  out  to  George  to  drop  behind  and  whip  my  horse, 
for  now  I had  no  use  whatever  of  my  left  leg,  and  it  took 
all  the  strength  in  my  right  leg  to  hang  on  to  the  horse. 
No  quicker  said  than  he  was  behind  my  horse  and  doing 
all  in  his  power  to  urge  him,  and  telling  me  for  God’s 
sake  to  hang  on  a little  longer. 

The  soldiers  had  just  rode  into  camp  and  were  dis- 
mounting when  they  heard  our  firing,  and  remounted  and 
started  in  that  direction,  but  as  it  was  getting  dark  and 
the  country  strange  to  them  they  could  not  make  very 
good  time.  They  met  us  about  half  way  between  the 


566 


AROUND  ON  CRUTCHES. 


camp  and  the  Indians,  the  reds  still  in  hot  pursuit  of  us. 
The  Lieutenant  ordered  a charge,  and  he  had  his  men  so 
trained  that  when  he  said  charge  they  did  not  stop  shoot- 
ing as  long  as  there  was  an  Indian  to  shoot  at. 

By  this  time  I was  so  sick  that  George  had  to  help 
me  off  my  horse,  and  leaving  two  men  with  me,  he  went 
on  after,  and  overhauled  the  command  before  they  got 
to  the  Indian  camp,  where  they  found  the  Indians  ready 
for  battle,  and  here  I think  the  Lieutenant  got  the  worst 
of  the  fight,  for  when  he  made  the  attack  the  Indians  at- 
tacked him  in  the  rear.  The  men  had  to  carry  me  in 
their  arms  to  camp,  as  they  had  no  stretchers  in  the  out- 
fit, and  there  I lay  four  weeks  before  an  ambulance 
came.  I was  then  removed  to  Fort  Yuma.  George 
Jones  took  charge  of  the  scout  force  after  I was  wounded. 

I told  George  then  that  if  I should  be  fortunate 
enough  to  get  over  my  wound  I would  quit  the  business 
for  all  time.  After  remaining  in  the  hospital  at  the  fort 
about  two  months  I was  able  to  get  around  on  crutches. 
Mrs.  Davis  having  heard  of  my  misfortune,  came  over  in 
company  with  her  brother  to  see  how  I was  getting 
along,  and  insisted  on  my  going  home  with  them  and  re- 
maining until  such  time  as  I could  ride  on  horseback, 
which  kind  offer  I accepted,  with  the  consent  of  the  doc- 
tor, he  giving  me  a supply  of  medicine  sufficient  to  last 
me  several  weeks. 

I remained  there  until  after  Christmas,  when  George 
came  after  me,  and  by  this  time  I was  able  to  walk  with 
a cane.  I then  returned  to  Fort  Yuma,  having  made  up 
my  mind  to  draw  my  pay  and  quit  the  business. 

George  also  being  tired  of  this  kind  of  life,  had  con- 


A NEW  CONTRACT. 


567 


eluded  to  return  to  his  home  in  Oregon.  When  I made 
our  intentions  known  to  Gen.  Crook  he  asked  me  how  I 
would  ever  be  able  to  get  to  civilization,  for  the  mail  was 
yet  carried  on  horseback  and  I was  not  able  to  ride  in 
that  way.  He  insisted  on  my  remaining  with  him  the 
coming  season,  and  if  I should  not  be  able  to  ride  I 
could  stay  in  camp  and  give  orders  to  the  other  scouts. 
I asked  George  what  he  thought  of  the  matter,  and  he 
said:  “I  will  leave  the  matter  with  you,  if  you  stay  an- 

other season  I will,  or  if  you  say  leave  I will  quit  also.” 
However,  we  decided  after  talking  matters  over  to  stay 
there  one  more  season,  and  that  would  end  our  scouting 
career,  both  vowing  that  we  would  quit  after  that,  and 
in  our  contract  this  time  with  the  General  we  ageed  to 
stay  until  the  coming  January,  and  George  and  I were  to 
have  two-thirds  of  all  the  property  captured  during  this 
campaign. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 


Poor  Jones  makes  his  last  fight. — He  died  among 

A LOT  OF  THE  DEVILS  HE  HAD  SLAIN. END  OF  THIRTY- 

ONE  YEARS  OF  HUNTING,  TRAPPING  AND  SCOUTING. 


About  the  first  day  in  March,  1877,  we  started  out  on 
our  summer’s  campaign.  I was  now  able  to  mount  a 


568 


find  Indians. 


horse  by  being  assisted,  but  had  to  be  very  careful  and 
only  ride  a short  distance,  and  very  slow  at  that.  The 
third  day  on  our  trip  from  the  fort  George  reported  hav- 
ing seen  the  trail  of  quite  a large  band  of  Indians  travel- 
ing westward  almost  parallel  with  the  road,  but  said  they 
had  passed  about  two  days  before.  I asked  the  Lieu- 
tenant to  give  me  his  camping  places  that  night  and  the 
next  one,  which  he  did.  I then  told  George  to  select 
four  men  from  the  scout  force,  take  two  days’  rations  and 
see  if  he  could  run  down  the  Indians  and  to  telegraph 
me  when  they  changed  their  course  or  when  he  had  them 
located. 

George  was  on  their  trail  before  noon  and  before  sun- 
set he  had  them  located,  only  a short  distance  from  the 
place  where  I had  been  wounded  the  year  before.  I got 
a dispatch  from  him  just  as  I was  ready  to  turn  in  for 
the  night,  and  by  one  o’clock  I recived  another  dispatch 
stating  that  there  were  about  eighty  in  the  band,  and 
well  armed,  and  among  them  about  twenty  squaws  and 
their  children.  This  was  something  we  had  never  seen 
among  the  Apaches  before.  Lieut.  Jackson  asked  my 
opinion  of  their  having  their  families  with  them.  I told 
him  I thought  they  must  be  on  their  way  to  Sonora  to 
trade,  as  at  that  time  the  Apaches  had  never  traded  but 
very  little  with  the  whites. 

They  might  be  out  for  a hunt,  but  it  was  not  custo- 
mary when  on  such  a trip  to  have  their  families  with 
them.  Upon  the  receipt  of  the  second  dispatch  from 
George,  Lieut.  Jackson  started  out  with  three  companies 
of  cavalry,  and  arrived  at  the  spot  near  daybreak.  I was 
told  afterwards  that  George  had  been  crawling  around 


569 


death  of  George  Jones. 

all  night  getting  the  location  of  the  Indians,  the  general 
lay  of  the  ground  and  to  ascertain  the  best  plan  of  at- 
tack, knowing  it  would  be  so  late  by  the  time  the  Lieu- 
tenant would  arrive  that  he  himself  v/ould  have  no  time 
to  spare,  and  he  had  a diagram  drawn  on  a piece  of  en- 
velope of  the  camp  and  surroundings,  also  had  their 
horses  located.  When  the  Lieutenant  was  ready  to 
make  the  attack  George  took  four  of  the  scouts  and 
started  to  cut  the  horses  off  and  prevent  the  Indians 
from  getting  to  them,  but  it  seemed  as  though  when  the 
cavalry  started  to  make  the  charge,  the  Indians’  dogs 
had  given  the  alarm  and  a part  of  the  Indians  had  made 
for  their  horses.  At  any  rate  when  daylight  came  George 
was  found  some  two  hundred  yard";  from  the  Indian  en- 
campment, with  both  legs  broken  and  a bullet  through 
his  neck,  which  had  broken  it  and  four  Indians  lying 
near  him  dead,  which  he  no  doubt  had  killed,  and  his 
horse  lay  dead  about  a rod  fro  n where  he  lay.  No  one 
had  seen  him  fall  nor  had  heard  a word  from  him  after 
he  gave  the  order  to  charge  "or  the  horses.  About  the 
middle  of  that  afternoon  they  returned  to  camp  with 
George’s  body  and  seven  Jthers  that  were  killed,  and 
nineteen  wounded  soldiers.  They  had  killed  thirty-seven 
Indians  and  had  taken  all  the  squaws  and  children  pris- 
oners. After  I had  ’ooked  at  the  body  of  that  once 
noble  and  brave  form,  but  now  a lifeless  corpse,  I told 
the  Lieutenant  that  I was  ready  to  leave  the  field,  for 
there  was  not  a man  in  the  entire  army  that  could  fill 
his  place,  and  without  at  least  one  reliable  man  in  the 
field  it  would  be  impossible  to  accomplish  anything. 

The  dead  were  buried  about  two  hundred  yards  north 


570 


THE  GRAVE. 


of  the  spring  where  we  had  camped,  and  I saw  that 
George  Jones  was  put  away  in  the  best  and  most  respect- 
able manner  possible  considering  the 
circumstances  by  which  we  were 
governed  at  that  time.  We  buried 
him  entirely  alone,  near  a yellow 
pine  tree,  and  at  his  head  we  placed 
a rude  pine  board,  dressed  in  as 
good  a shape  as  could  be  done  with 
such  tools  as  were  accessible  to  our 
use.  On  this  board  his  name  was 
engraved,  also  his  age  and  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  came  to  his  death, 
and  the  same  is  also  to  be  seen  on 
the  yellow  pine  tree  that  stands 
near  the  grave  of  this  once  noble 
friend  and  hero  of  the  plains. 

My  brave  and  noble  comrade, 

You  have  served  your  country  true, 

Your  trials  and  troubles  are  ended 
And  you  have  bade  this  world  adieu. 

You  have  been  a noble  companion, 

Once  so  trusty,  true  and  brave; 

But  now  your  cold  and  lifeless  form 
Lies  silent  in  the  g:ave. 

While  your  form  remains  here  with  us 
In  this  wicked  dismal  land, 

Your  soul  has  crossed  the  river 
And  joined  the  angel  band. 

The  prisoners  that  were  taken  here  Lieut  Jackson 
sent  to  Fort  Yuma  and  placed  under  guard,  as  Gen. 
Crook  had  made  up  his  mind  to  capture  all  xhe  Apaches 


A LONESOME  SUMMER. 


571 


he  could  and  try  in  that  way  to  civilize  them,  but  he 
made  a total  failure  in  regard  to  this  particular  tribe  of 
Indians. 

I informed  George’s  father  and  mother  of  his  death 
as  soon  as  I could  get  a letter  to  them,  telling  them  as 
soon  as  I returned  to  the  fort  I would  draw  his  pay  and 
send  it  it  to  them,  which  I did.  When  I talked  to  Lieut. 
Jackson  ot  quitting  he  said  he  could  not  spare  me  until 
the  summer’s  campaign  was  over,  so  I remained  with 
him. 

We  moved  on  and  established  our  quarters  at  the 
same  place  as  the  year  before,  and  a more  lonesome 
summer  I never  put  in  anywhere  than  there.  I was  not 
able  to  do  anything  more  than  stay  in  camp  and  give 
orders  until  late  in  the  season.  Lieut.  Jackson  had  two 
more  engagements  that  season,  but  I was  not  able  to  be 
in  either  of  them. 

The  first  one  the  soldiers  killed  nine  Indians,  and  the 
other  time  the  Indians  made  an  attack  on  him  while  he, 
with  twenty  of  his  men,  were  escorting  an  emigrant  train 
across  the  mountains.  In  this  engagement  the  Lieuten- 
ant did  not  lose  a man,  and  only  three  horses,  and  killed 
twenty-three  Indians  and  gave  them  a chase  of  about 
ten  miles. 

It  was  now  getting  late  in  the  fall  and  Lieut.  Jackson 
pulled  out  for  the  fort,  and  by  that  time  I was  just  able 
to  climb  on  my  horse  without  assistance.  We  arrived 
at  Fort  Yuma  about  the  first  of  November,  and  there  I 
remained  till  the  first  of  June,  1878. 

Before  I left  I made  Mrs.  Davis  and  her  family  a 
farewell  visit.  Two  of  her  daughters  were  then  married 


572 


QUIT  SCOUTING. 


and  lived  near  their  mother,  and  all  seemed  to  be  in  a 
prosperous  condition.  After  a pleasant  visit  with  the 
Davis  folks  I returned  to  the  fort  and  commenced  mak- 
ing preparations  tc  leave,  but  was  delayed  in  starting  at 
least  a month  on  account  of  some  soldiers  who  had 
served  their  time  out  and  were  going  to  return  with  me. 
I told  my  old  friend  Lieut.  Jackson  the  day  before  start- 
ing that  I did  not  think  that  there  was  another  white 
man  in  the  United  States  that  had  seen  less  of  civiliza- 
tion or  more  of  Indian  warfare  than  I had,  it  now  being 
just  thirty-one  years  since  I started  out  with  Uncle  Kit 
Carson  onto  the  plains  and  into  the  mountains. 

When  I left  the  fort  this  time  it  was  with  the  deter- 
mination that  I would  not  go  into  the  scouting  field 
again,  and  I have  kept  my  word  so  far,  and  think  I shall 
thus  continue.  I started  out  from  the  fort  with  twenty- 
three  head  of  horses,  and  I packed  the  baggage  of  the 
four  discharged  soldiers  in  order  to  get  them  to  help  me 
with  my  loose  horses. 


«— :o:^ 


A BEAR  HUNT. 


573 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 


A GRIZZLEY  HUNTS  THE  HUNTER. SHOOTING  SEALS  IN 

Alaskan  waters. — I become  a Seattle  hotel 

KEEPER  AND  THE  BIG  FIRE  CLOSES  ME  OUT. SOME 

REST. 


On  my  arrival  at  San  Francisco  the  first  thing  was  to 
get  rid  of  my  surplus  horses.  During  the  time  I was 
selling  them  I made  the  acquaintance  of  a man  named 
Walter  Fiske,  who  was  engaged  in  raising  Angora  goats, 
about  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  north  from  San 
Francisco,  and  who  was  something  of  a hunter  also. 
Mr.  Fiske  invited  me  to  go  home  with  him  and  have  a 
bear  hunt. 

Being  tired  of  the  city,  I accompanied  Mr.  Fiske  to 
his  ranch.  He  said  he  knew  where  there  was  a patch  of 
wild  clover  on  which  the  grizzlies  fed,  so  we  were  off  for 
a bear  hunt.  We  soon  found  where  they  fed  and  watered. 
They  had  a plain  trail  from  their  feeding  place  to  the 
water.  Mr.  Fiske  being  hard  of  hearing  proposed  that 
I stop  on  the  feeding  ground  and  he  would  take  his  stand 
down  on  the  trail,  and  in  case  I should  get  into  trouble 
I could  run  down  the  trail,  and  if  he  were  to  get  into  a 
tight  place  he  would  run  up  the  trail  to  where  I was.  I 
took  my  stand  and  had  not  been  there  long  until  I saw, 
just  behind,  in  about  twenty  feet  of  me,  a huge  grizzly 


574 


A LIVELY  CHASE. 


bear  coming  for  me  on  his  hind  feet.  I did  not  see  a 
tree  that  I could  get  behind  or  climb,  so  I took  out  along 
the  trail  as  fast  as  I could,  the  grizzly  after  me.  For 

the  first  fifty  yards  I had  to 
run  up  grade  and  then  I 
turned  down  hill.  When  I 
^ reached  the  top  of  the  hill  I 

commenced  to  hallo  at  the 
top  of  my  voice,  ‘‘Lookout 
Walter,  we  are  coming!” 
Walter  was  sitting  only  a 
few  steps  from  the  trail  and 
the  moment  I passed  him  I 
heard  the  report  of  his  gun. 

I jumped  to  one  side  and 
gave  the  bear  a shot.  I got 


SfW 14,1 

<"  * lx 


“Look  out  Walter,  we  are  coming!” 


in  two  shots  and  Fiske  four.  After  receiving  this  amount 
of  lead  the  bear  ran  but  a short  distance  and  dropped 


BOUGHT  A RANCH. 


575 


dead.  All  of  the  shots  were  near  the  bear’s  heart.  We 
dressed  him  and  started  home  and  we  had  bear  meat 
enough  to  last  for  some  time  to  come.  In  the  mean 
time  Mr.  Fiske  had  told  me  about  a man  four  miles  from 
his  place  who  had  a ranch  for  sale,  consisting  of  three 
hundred  and  twenty  acres  of  deeded  land,  one  hundred 
acres  in  cultivation,  eighty  bearing  fruit  trees  and  two 
acres  of  a vineyard.  He  said  the  place  could  be  bought 
cheap,  and  he  also  told  me  that  there  was  a vacant  quar- 
ter section  adjoining  this  land  that  I could  take  up,  and 
I would  have  the  finest  goat  ranch  in  the  country.  Mr. 
Fiske  and  I took  a trip  down  and  found  the  owner  .very 
anxious  to  sell.  After  looking  the  ranch,  over  and  get- 
ting his  figures,  I made  him  an  offer  of  four  thousand 
dollars  for  everything,  which  offer  he  accepted,  he  re- 
serving nothing  but  one  span  of  horses,  his  bed  and 
clothing.  We  then  went  to  Santa  Rosa,  the  county  seat, 
to  get  an  abstract  of  title  and  a deed  to  the  property, 
and  now  I am  once  more  an  honest  rancher.  While  in 
Santa  Rosa  I hired  a man  and  his  wife  by  the  name  of 
Benson,  by  the  year.  Mr.  Benson  proved  to  be  a good 
man  and  his  wife  a splendid  housekeeper.  All  went  well 
for  about  five  months,  and  having  filed  on  the  quarter  of 
vacant  land  adjoining  me,  of  course  I had  to  move  over 
there.  I had  noticed  a change  in  Benson’s  appearance, 
but  had  not  thought  much  about  it  till  one  Saturday  I 
sent  him  to  haul  some  pickets  over  to  my  pre-emption 
claim.  That  night,  having  company,  I did  not  go  to 
the  cabin  on  the  claim,  but  stayed  on  the  other  place. 
Benson  was  not  at  supper  that  evening,  but  I paid  no 
attention  to  it  nor  thought  it  strange,  supposing  he  was 


576 


Benson  insane. 


just  a little  late  getting  home.  The  next  morning  I no- 
ticed that  he  was  not  at  the  breakfast  table,  and  I asked 
Mrs.  Benson  why  Mr.  Bensen  didn’t  come  to  his  break- 
fast. She  asked  if  I had  not  told  him  to  stay  on  the 
pre-emption  claim  that  night.  I told  her  that  I had  not 
and  that  I had  the  key  and  he  could  not  get  into  the 
house,  and  besides  there  was  no  feed  there  for  the  mules. 
She  commenced  to  feel  uneasy  then.  So  as  soon  as 
breakfast  was  over  I took  one  of  my  hired  men  and 
started  out  to  hunt  for  him.  We  struck  the  wagon  trail 
and  tracked  him  around  for  some  time.  He  had  trav- 
eled in  a terribly  round  about  way.  We  finally  came  to 
him  where  he  had  run  his  team  against  a tree,  and  when 
we  came  upon  him  he  was  down  in  front  of  the  mules 
whipping  them  around  the  fore  legs  trying  to  make  them 
get  down  and  pray.  He  did  not  notice  us  until  I spoke  to 
him  and  told  him  to  quit  whipping  the  mules.  When  he 
looked  at  me  I could  see  that  he  was  perfectly  wild.  It 
took  us  both  three  hours  to  get  him  back  to  the  house. 
I sent  for  the  constable,  who  took  him  to  Santa  Rosa 
and  from  there  he  was  taken  to  the  insane  asylum.  His 
wife  went  East  to  her  folks,  and  I was  told  afterwards 
that  he  got  all  right. 

I next  tried  a Chinese  housekeeper,  but  John  China- 
man had  too  many  relations  in  the  country.  There 
would  be  two  or  three  Chinamen  there  almost  every  week 
to  see  my  cook  and  would  stay  one  or  two  nights.  It 
was  not  what  they  ate  that  I cared  for,  but  what  they 
carried  off. 

I tried  ranching  there  for  three  years  and  during  that 
time  I had  three  different  men  with  their  wives,  but 

r 


QUIT  RANCHING. 


577 


there  was  always  something  wrong,  too  far  from  church 
or  too  far  from  neighbors,  so  I came  to  the  conclusion 
that  a man  had  no  use  with  a ranch  unless  he  had  a wife. 
In  the  mean  time  I had  proved  up  on  my  pre-emption, 


The  Chinee  housekeeper. 


and  had  all  my  land  fenced  in  with  a picket  fence  made 
of  red  wood  pickets.  I had  also  got  sick  and  tired  of 
ranching,  not  but  what  I had  done  fairly  well,  but  it  was 
too  much  bother  for  a man  that  had  been  raised  as  I had. 


578 


A HUNTING  PARTY. 


I went  to  San  Francisco  and  placed  my  land  in  the  hands 
of  a real  estate  agent  for  sale,  and  it  was  but  a short 
time  when  he  sent  two  men  out  to  look  at  it.  This  was 
the  fall  of  the  year  when  my  fruit  was  just  beautiful  and 
the  grapes  ripe  in  the  vineyard,  and  we  were  not  long  in 
making  a trade. 

In  less  than  one  month  I was  without  a house  or  home, 
so  I placed  my  money  in  the  bank  and  arranged  to  get 
my  interest  semi-annually,  and  made  up  my  mind  to  take 
things  easy  the  balance  of  my  days. 

About  one  year  from  that  time  I succeeded  in  getting 
up  a hunting  party,  and  we  went  up  into  the  mountains 
in  Mendocino  county,  where  we  found  game  in  abun- 
dance, deer,  elk  and  bear.  I stayed  out  in  the  moun- 
tains nearly  three  months,  during  which  time  I killed  the 
largest  grizzly  bear  I have  ever  seen,  weighing  net,  eight 
hundred  and  sixty  pounds.  This  bear  I killed  at  one 
shot,  and  it  is  the  only  grizzly  that  I ever  killed  at  one 
shot  in  all  my  hunting.  We  also  killed  ten  large  elk. 
One  man  in  the  party  killed  an  elk  that  the  horns  meas- 
ured from  tip  to  tip,  five  feet  and  four  inches,  and  those 
horns  can  be  seen  at  the  Lick  House  in  San  Francisco. 
He  sold  them  for  fifty  dollars. 

I remained  in  San  Francisco  until  in  the  spring  of 
1886,  when  there  was  a party  fitting  up  a schooner  to  go 
sealing  on  the  coast  of  Alaska,  and  I was  offered  a job 
as  shooter.  I agreed  to  go  with  them  and  they  were  to 
pay  me  two  dollars  for  each  seal  that  I killed.  The  first 
of  April  we  started,  and  were  twenty-two  days  getting  to 
where  there  was  seal. 

Now  this  was  a new  business  to  me,  and  my  first  seal 


SHOOTING  SEALS. 


579 


hunting  was  near  the  mouth  of  the  Yukon  river.  The 
captain  anchored  about  twenty  miles  from  land.  There 


a piece  for  all  the  seals  killed,  they  only  got  one  dollar 
each,  making  in  all  four  dollars  each  that  the  seals  cost 
the  company. 

In  the  morning  the  captain  gives  each  man  his  course 
and  instructions  to  return  at  once  when  the  signal  can- 
non is  fired.  The  first  morning  that  we  started  out  we 
went  about  four  miles  before  we  saw  any  seal,  when  we 
ran  on  to  a school  sleeping  on  the  water.  The  two  boat- 
men pulled  up  among  them  and  I turned  loose  to  shoot- 
ing them  and  got  six  out  of  the  outfit  before  they  got 
away  from  us.  Shooting  seal  out  of  a boat  reminded  me 
very  much  of  shooting  Indians  when  on  a bucking  cay- 
use,  as  the  boat  is  always  in  motion,  and  it  is  all  that  a 
person  can  do  to  stand  up  in  it  when  the  sea  is  any  ways 
rough.  That  day  I killed  nine  seal  and  we  were  called 
in  at  two  o’clock,  as  there  was  fog  coming  up,  and  we 


were  six  sealing 


Shooting  Seal. 


the  other  a German;  they  were 
both  stout  and  willing  to  work. 
While  I received  two  dollars 


580 


LOST  IN  THE  FOG. 


just  got  in  ahead  of  it.  We  had  fair  success  sealing  until 
the  last  of  August,  when  my  crew  ventured  a little  too 
far  and  the  wind  changed  so  that  we  did  not  hear  the 
cannon  and  the  fog  caught  us.  Each  crew  when  starting 
out  in  the  morning  always  took  supplies  along  sufficient 
to  last  twenty-four  hours.  This  time  when  we  got  caught 
in  the  fog  the  wind  had  changed  on  us,  so  we  tried  to 
remain  as  near  the  same  place  as  possible,  but  this  time 
we  had  to  guess  at  it  as  we  could  not  always  tell  just 
which  way  the  tide  was  going.  This  was  beyond  any 
doubt  the  worst  trip  that  I ever  experienced,  the  fog  was 
very  cold  and  our  clothing  wet.  We  were  out  three  days 
and  nights  and  then  were  picked  up  by  another  schooner. 

The  captain 
of  the  schoon- 
er that  picked 
us  up  heard 
the  firing  of 
our  cannon 
that  morning 
and  we  were 
picked  up 
about  noon. 
He  at  once 
set  sail  for 
our  schooner, 
firing  the  sig- 
nal cannon 
every  half 

hour,  reaching  our  schooner  jnst  as  it  was  growing  dark, 
and  the  captain  and  crew  had  given  us  up  for  lost.  We 


KEEPING  HOTEL. 


58l 


stayed  out  until  the  last  of  September,  when  we  sailed 
for  San  Francisco,  and  this  wound  up  my  seal  hunting. 

There  was  only  one  other  man  in  the  crew  that  killed 
more  seal  than  I did  during  the  season,  but  I made  the 
largest  day’s  killing  of  any  one  in  the  crew,  that  being 
twenty  seven.  But  one  season  was  enough  for  me  in 
that  line  of  business.  I concluded  that  I would  much 
rather  take  my  chances  on  dry  land. 

In  the  spring  of  1887  I took  a trip  to  the  Puget  Sound 
country  and  found  Seattle  a very  lively  place;  in  fact,  as 
much  so  as  any  place  I had  ever  seen  in  my  life.  After 
remaining  in  Seattle  about  two  months  I concluded  that 
I would  try  my  hand  at  the  hotel  business,  as  that  was 
something  I had  not  tried,  so  I bought  out  a man  named 
Smith,  who  owned  a big  hotel  on  the  corner  of  South 
second  and  Washington  streets,  just  opposite  John 
Court’s  Theatre  Building,  paying  Mr.  Smith  sixteen 
thousand  dollars  for  the  property,  and  besides  this  I 
spent  one  thousand  two  hundred  dollars  in  repairing  and 
fitting  it  up  in  shape.  I gave  it  the  name  of  ‘ 'Riverside 
House.”  Here  I built  up  a good  business  in  the  hotel 
line.  In  fact,  inside  of  six  months  from  the  time  I 
opened  up  I had  all  that  I could  accommodate  all  the 
time,  and  this  was  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  I had 
been  perfectly  satisfied. 

I had  all  the  business  I could  attend  to,  and  was 
making  money,  and  as  fast  as  I could  accumulate  a little 
money  I invested  it  in  different  parts  of  the  city  in  good 
property. 

In  the  month  of  May,  1889,  two  brothers  named 
Clark,  from  Chicago,  came  to  my  hotel  for  the  purpose  of 


582 


BURNED  OUT. 


buying  me  out,  but  I told  them  my  property  was  not  for 
sale,  as  I was  satisfied  and  liked  the  business  and  did  not 

think  I could 
A\  r - 1 find  a place 

that  would 
suit  me  better; 
but  about  the 
first  of  June 
they  returned 
and  made  me 
a n offer  o f 
twenty  thou- 
sand dollars. 
I told  them 
that  I would 
? not  sell  at  any 
price,  as  I was 
satisfied  and 
intended  to  re- 
main there  as  long  as  I lived  On  the  morning  of  the 
sixth  of  June,  1889,  my  clerk  came  to  my  room  and  woke 
me  up,  saying  that  there  was  a fire  in  the  northern  part 
of  town  and  that  the  wind  was  blowing  strong  from  that 
direction.  I dressed  at  once,  and  when  I got  out  on  the 
street  1 could  see  the  fire  about  a half  mile  from  my 
property,  but  had  not  the  faintest  idea  that  it  would  ever 
reach  me,  although  the  excitement  was  running  high  on 
the  street.  I returned  to  the  hotel,  washed,  and  was 
just  eating  my  breakfast  when  one  of  the  waiters  came 
and  told  me  that  he  could  see  the  fire  from  the  door.  1 
told  he  must  be  mistaken,  but  he  went  and  looked  again 


Mv  clerk  woke  me  u^,  raying  there  was  a fire. 


A HEAVY  LOSS. 


583 


and  came  back  and  told  me  that  the  fire  was  getting  very 
close.  I ran  to  the  door  and  saw  that  it  was  then  within 
one  block  of  my  hotel.  Now  I saw  that  my  property 
was  sure  to  be  burnt,  so  I sent  my  clerk  up  stairs  to  see 
whether  or  not  there  were  any  lodgers  in  the  rooms,  and 
I made  a rush  for  the  safe  and  only  just  had  time  to  get 
it  unlocked  and  the  contents  out  when  the  fire  was 
on  us. 

That  fire  wiped  me  out  slick  and  clean  as  I did  not 
have  a dollar’s  worth  of  insurance  on  the  property.  Any 
business  man  would  have  known  enough  at  least  to  have 
a few  thousand  dollars  of  insurance  on  that  amount  of 
property,  but  I had  never  seen  a fire  before  in  a city  and 
thought  it  folly  to  insure,  and  did  not  find  out  my  mis- 
take until  it  was  too  late.  During  the  next  six  months 
I had  a number  of  offers  of  money  to  build  a brick  hotel 
on  my  lots,  but  I could  not  think  for  a moment  of  bor- 
rowing the  money  for  that  purpose. 

I remained  in  Seattle  for  nine  months,  during  which 
time  there  was  a great  decrease  in  the  value  of  property, 
and  I sold  my  lots  where  my  hotel  had  stood  at  a very 
reduced  price.  I tried  various  speculations  on  a small 
scale  during  this  time,  but  with  very  poor  success. 

By  this  time  I had  spent  and  lost  in  speculation  about 
all  the  money  that  I had  realized  for  my  property,  and 
the  outside  property  that  I owned  I could  not  sell  at  any 
price.  Since  that  time  I have  wandered  around  from 
pillar  to  post,  catching  a little  job  here  and  there,  and  at 
this  writing  I am  temporarily  located  at  Moscow,  Idaho, 
which  is  situated  in  the  heart  of  the  famous  Palouse 


5*4 


CONCLUSION. 


country,  one  of  the  greatest  countries  on  the  globe  for 
the  growing  of  wheat,  oats,  barley,  rye,  flax  and  vege- 
tables of  all  kinds. 

And  now  kind  reader,  begging  your  pardon,  I would 
say  that  I have  been  two  years  making  up  my  mind  to 
<dlow  my  life  to  go  down  in  history  to  be  read  by  the  public, 
as  notoriety  is  something  I never  cared  for.  One  reason, 
perhaps,  is  that  I was  brought  up  by  noble  and  generous- 
hearted  Kit  Carson,  who  very  much  disliked  notoriety, 
and  I do  not  believe  that  there  ever  was  a son  who 
thought  more  of  his  father  than  I did  of  that  high-minded 
and  excellent  man. 

I have  had  many  opportunities  to  have  the  history  of 
my  life  written  up,  but  would  never  consent  to  anything 
of  the  kind.  Finally,  however,  I decided  to  write  it  my- 
self, and  while  it  is  written  in  very  rude  and  unpolished 
language,  by  an  old  frontiersman  who  never  went  to 
school  a day  in  his  life,  all  he  knows  he  picked  up  him- 
self, yet  it  is  the  true  history  of  the  most  striking  events, 
trials,  troubles,  tribulations,  hardships,  pleasures  and 
satisfactions  of  a long  life  of  strange  adventure  among 
wild  scenes  and  wilder  people,  and  in  telling  the  story  I 
hope  I have  interested  the  reader. 

It  is  not  strange  that  in  the  wilderness,  where  all 
nature  sings,  from  the  fairy  tinkle  of  the  falling  snow  to 
the  boom  of  a storm-swept  canyon;  and  from  the  warb- 
ling of  the  birds  to  the  roaring  growl  of  mad  grizzlies; 
and  from  the  whispers  of  lost  breezes  to  thunder  of  thou- 
sands of  stampeding  hoofs — it  is  not  strange  that  among 
all  that,  even  a worn  and  illiterate  old  hunter  should  try 


THE  OLD  SCOUTS  LAMENT. 


5*5 


to  sing,  if  nothing  more  than  the  same  sort  of  a song  that 
the  dying  sachem  sings.  So  I beg  you  bear  with 

THE  OLD  SCOUT’S  LAMENT. 

Come  all  of  you,  my  brother  scouts, 

And  join  me  in  my  song; 

Come,  let  us  sing  together, 

Though  the  shadows  fall  so  long. 

Of  all  the  old  frontiersmen, 

That  used  to  scour  the  plain, 

There  are  but  very  few  of  them 
That  with  us  yet  remain. 

Dav  after  day,  they’re  dropping  off; 

They  are  going,  one  by  one; 

Our  clan  is  fast  decreasing; 

Our  race  is  almost  run. 

There  were  many  of  our  number 
That  never  wore  the  blue, 

But,  faithfully,  they  did  their  part, 

As  brave  men,  tried  and  true. 

• They  never  joined  the  army, 

But  had  other  work  to  do 
In  piloting  the  coming  folks, 

To  help  them  safely  through. 

But  brothers,  we  are  failing; 

Our  race  is  almost  run; 

The  days  of  elk  and  buffalo, 

And  beaver  traps,  are  gone. 

Oh!  the  days  of  elk  and  buffalo, 

It  fills  my  heart  with  pain 
To  know  those  days  are  passed  and  gone, 

To  never  come  again. 


We  fought  the  red-skin  rascals 


586 


THE  OLD  SCOUT’S  LAMENT. 


Over  valley,  hill  and  plain; 

We  fought  him  tn  the  mountain  top, 
And  fought  him  down  again. 

Those  fighting  days  are  over; 

The  Indian  yell  resounds 
No  more  along  the  border; 

Peace  sends  far  sweeter  sounds. 

But  we  found  great  joy,  old  comrades, 
To  hear  and  make  it  die, 

We  won  bright  homes  for  gentle  ones, 
And  now,  our  West,  good-bye. 


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THE  FIRST  MORTGAGE;  310  pages  A truthful,  instructive,  pleas 
A ing  and  poetical  presentation  of  Biblical  stories,  history  and  gospel 
cruth;  fully  and  handsomely  illustrated  from  the  world-renowned  artist. 

Gustave  Dore,  by  E.  U.  Cook,  the  whole  forming  an  exceedingly  into?* 

©stinfe  and  oatertamisif  Bible 0 Om  life® 

aw  i m ctucaf®.. 


*1 


Hiemiari  Publications,  $1  each,  bound  Isa  <CS©tk 


EVILS  OF  THE  CITIES:  By  T.  BeWitt  Talmage,  D.  D.;  530  pages. 

The  author,  in  company  with  the  proper  detectives,  visited  many  of 
She  most  vile  and  wicked  places  in  New  York  City  and  Brooklyn,  osten- 
sibly looking  for  a thief,  but  in  reality  taking  notes  for  a series  of 
discourses  published  in  this  volume,  which  contains  a full  and  graphic 
description  of  what  he  saw  and  the  lessons  drawn  therefrom.  The  Doctor 
has  also  extended  his  observations  to  the  “Summer  Resorts,”  “Watering 
Places,”  Races,  etc.,  etc.,  all  of  which  are  popularized  from  his  standpoint 
m this  volume.  Handsomely  illustrated  and  decidedly  interesting. 

TALMAGE  IN  THE  HOLY  LAND:  322  pages.  The 
Palestine  Sermons  of  T.  DeWitt  Talmage,  delivered  during 
his  tour  of  the  Holy  Land.  Including  graphic  descriptions 
of  Sacred  Places,  Vivid  Delineations  of  Gospel  Truths, 
interesting  local  reminiscences,  etc.,  etc.,  by  his  visit  to  the 
many  places  made  sacred  by  the  personal  presence  of  Jesus 
and  the  great  pens  of  Biblical  characters  and  writers. 
Copiously  illustrated. 

SIN : A series  of  popular  discourses  delivered  by  T.  DeWitt 

Talmage,  D.  D.,  and  illustrated  with  136  engravings  by 
H.  De  Lay;  41 1 pages. 

M cNEILL’S  POPULAR  SERMONS:  373  pages.  Delivered  in  Lon- 

i 1 con  and  America  by  the  Rev.  John  McNeill,  one  of  the  ablest  and 
most  p<  pular  of  living  divines,  and  known  on  both  coL't.inents  as  “Tki, 
SccTch  Spurgeon  ” of  Europe,  of  whom  D.  L.  Moody  has  said:  “ He  is, 

the  greatest  preacher  in  the  world.”  A most  clear,  vivid,  earnest  and 
life-like  presentation  of  Gospel  Truth;  sincerely  and  decidedly  spiritual. 
h most  edifying,  instructive  and  entertaining  volume  for  young  and  old. 


EDISON  AND  HIS  INVENTIONS:  278  pages.  Containing 
full  illustrated  explanations  of  the  new  and  wonderful  Pho- 
nograph, Telephone,  Electric  Light,  and  ail  his  principal 
inventions,  in  Edison’s  own  language,  generally,  including 
many  incidents,  anecdotes  and  interesting  particulars  connect- 
ed with  the  earlier  and  later  life  of  the  world-renowned 
inventor,  together  with  a full  Electrical  Dictionary,  explain- 
ing all  of  the  new  electrical  terms;  making  a ve^y  entertain- 
ing and  valuable  book  of  the  life  and  works  of  Edison 
Profusely  illustrated 


GEMS  OF  TRUTH  AND  BEAUTY.  A cho^?  reaction 
of  wise,  eloquent  extracts  from  Talmage,  Pcechet,  Moody, 
Spurgeon,  Guthrie  and  Parker,  forming  a volume  til sJ 
keenly  Interests.  A good  gift  ctfflurt  tabl'd  brake 


Hiatti&ri  PiiMiea.tt@ffligp  $>£  each,  botau^  In  OkrtMfe 


TEN  YEARS  A COW  BOY.  A full  and  vivid  de 
scription  of  frontier  life,  including  romance,  advent* 
ure  and  all  the  varied  experiences  incident  to  a lift 
on  the  plains  as  cow  boy,  stock  owner,  rancher,  etc, 
together  with  articles  on  cattle  and  sheep  raising 
how  to  make  money,  description  of  the  plains,  etCo, 
etc.  Illustrated  with  ioo  full-page  engravings,  and 
contains  reading  matter  471  pages. 


WILD  LIFE  IN  THE  FAR  WEST,  By  C.  H.  Simpson,  a resident 
detective,  living  in  this  country.  Giving  a full  and  graphic  account 
of  his  thrilling  adventures  among  the  Indians  and  outlaws  of  Mon* 
/ana — including  hunting,  hair-breadth  escapes,  captivity,  punishment  and 
difficulties  of  all  kinds  met  with  in  this  wild  and  lawless  country,  Illus< 
irated  by  30  full-page  engravings,  by  G.  S.  Littlejohn,  and  contains  read 
•ng  matter  264  pages. 


A YANKEE’S  ADVENTURES  IN  SOUTH  AFRICA.  (In  the  dia 
mond  country.)  By  C.  H.  Simpson.  Giving  the  varied  experiences 
adventures,  dangers  and  narrow  escapes  of  a Yankee  seeking  his 
fortune  in  this  wild  country,  which  by  undaunted  courage,  perseverance, 
suffering,  fighting  and  adventures  of  various  sorts  is  requited  at.  last  by 
the  ownership  of  the  largest  diamond  taken  out  of  the  Kimbeily  mines? 
up  to  that  time,  and  with  the  heart  and  hand  of  the  fairest  daughter  of  a 
diamond  kin^  Containing  30  full-page  illustrations  by  H.  DeLay  and 
reading  matter  220  pages. 


WIT,  Contains  sketches  from  Mark  Twain,  witticismt 
from  F,  H.  Carruth,  Donglas  Jerrold,  M.  Quad,  Op  e 
Reid,  Mrs.  Partington,  Eli  Perkins,  O’Malley,  Bill 
Nye,  Artemus  Ward,  Abe  Lincoln,  Burdette,  Daniel 
Webster,  Victor  Hugo,  Brother  Gardner,  Clinton 
Scollard,  Tom  Hood,  L.  R.  Catlin,  Josh.  Billings( 
Chauncey  Depew  and  all  humorous  writers  of  mod 
ern  times  Illustrated  with  75  full  page  engravings, 
by  H,  DeLay  and  contains  reading  matter  407  pages 

BENONX  AND  SERAPTA  A Story  of  the  Time  of  the  Great  Coo 

stantine,  Founder  of  the  Christian  Faith  By  Douglas  Vernon,  A 
religious  novel  showing  a Parsee  s constancy  and  faith  through 
many  persecutions  trials  and  difficulties  placed  in  his  way  by  priests, 
nobles  jnd  queens  of  his  time  and  his  final  triumph  over  all  obstacles. 
Being  an  interesting  novel,  intended  to  show  the  state  of  the  religious 
feelings  and  unscrupulous  intrigues  of  those  professing  religion  at  th<& 
tame  of  the  foundation  of  the  Christian  faith.  Illustrated  with  33  ft# 
mm*  hf  BL  B©La^n  ©©©tear*8  wMss  3%  mt&m. 


GLIMPSES  OF  HOOSIERDOM.  A selection  of  Humorous  and 
Pathetic  Poems,  which,  together,  give  a most  vivid  and  delightful 
description  of  the  life,  the  thinking  and  feelings  of  the  farmer  of 
Irdiana.  The  Poems  are  truly  original,  and  show  that  the  author  is  a 
r sident  of  the  State  he  sings  about,  and  has  lived  through  most  of  the 
incidents  he  depicts  in  a truly  fascinating  way.  Copiously  illustrated. 
Deamor  R.  Drake.  268  pages. 

LOTS  AND  PENALTIES.  A selection  of 
Political  stories,  taken  from  life,  and  told  by 
W.  H.  Hinrichsen,  “Buck,”  a man  who  held 
the  position  of  Secretary  of  State  of  Illinois. 
These  stories  do  not  give  a one-sided  view  of 
the  Comedies  and  Tragedies  that  occur  in 
Politics  but  will  prove  of  valu3  and  highest 
interest  to  the  Democrat  and  Republican 
alike.  True  Humor  and  deepest  Pathos  go 
here  hand  in  hand,  and  the  book,  once  opened, 
will  be  rarely  laid  aside  without  that  feeling  of  true  satisfaction  that 
comes  after  the  perusal  of  literature,  based  on  real  life,  and  built  by 
genius.  Copiously  illustrated.  458  pages. 

THE  PIONEER’S  HOARD.  A Thrillng  Ro- 
mance of  the  Ozarks  by  Scott  Van  Gorden. 
A vivid,  graphic  tale  of  the  reign  of  the  Out- 
laws in  those  Mountains  of  the  West,  and 
their  downfall  and  final  extermination  by  the 
Regulators.  Combat  and  Bloodshed,  Indian 
warwhoops,  and  wild,  dark  night  scenes  blend 
most  luckily  with  courtship  and  love-making, 
and  offer  a story  to  lovers  of  sensational  litera- 
ture that  will  hold  them  sp 2II  bound  from  beginning  to  end.  Illustrated 
with  twenty-three  full  page  engravings  by  H.  S.  De  Lay.  530  pages. 


Standard  Publications,  $1.00  each.  Cloth-bound. 

BIBLE  CHARACTERS.  A collection  of  Sermons  by 
the  most  renowned  divines  of  their  times  on  these 
subjects.  A beauliful  and  inspiring  book,  that  ought 
to  find  its  place  into  every  home  where  good  and 
elevating  literature  is  sought  after.  Henry  Ward 
Beecher,  Dr.  Talmage,  Joseph  Parker,  Dr.  Guthrie, 
etc.  32  full-page  illustrations  from  the  famous  paint- 
ings by  Gustave  Dore.  894  pages. 


Standard  Publications,  $1.00  each,  Cloth-bound 


They  are  idols  of  home  and  of  house- 
holds; 

They  are  Angels  of  God  in  disguise. 
His  sunlight  sleeps  in  their  tresses; 
His  glory  still  gleams  in  their  eyes. 


Stories  for  the  little  ones 

AT  HOME.  320  pages.  “This  hand- 
somely illustrated  book  has  been  com- 
piled and  arranged  by  one  who  is  best 
able  to  tell  what  is  good  for  the  instruc- 
tion and  amusement  of  the  children.  ” — 
A Mother.  Many  of  the  rhymes  are 
original,  but  a large  number  are  old 
favorites  that  will  interest  the  old  folk 
as  reminiscences  of  their  childhood 
days.  The  illustrations  are  numerous 
and  designed  to  amuse  and  interest 
the  little  ones  at  home. 


GEMS  OF  POETRY.  407  pages.  Finely  illustrated.  Contains  a 
very  choice  and  varied  selection  of  our  most  popular,  beautiful  and 
time-honored  poems,  written  by  the  poets  of  all  ages  and  climes. 
A magnificent  gift  book  for  a friend;  a splendid  book  for  the  holidays; 
appropriate  for  a birthday  or  wedding  present;  a fine  center  table  book, 
interesting  to  all. 

KIDNAPPED;  OR,  SECRETS  OF  A GREAT  MYSTERY.  By 
A.  Stewart  Manly.  Illustrated  by  H.  S.  De  Lay.  428  pages. 

SOCIAL  KNOTS  UNTIED.  A Series  of  Practical  and  Popular 
Sermons  delivered  by  T.  De  Witt  Taimage,  D.  D.  Handsomely 
illustrated.  475  pages. 

LUCKY  TEN  BAR  OF  PARADISE  VALLEY.  His  humorous, 
pathetic  and  tragic  adventures.  Copiously  illustrated  by  H.  S. 
De  Lay.  His  travels  by  reproductions  from  photographs,  consti- 
tuting almost  a Pictorial  America.  By  C.  M.  Stevens.  600  pages. 


EARLS  FROM  MANY  SEAS.  A 
collection  of  the  best  thoughts  of 
four  hundred  writers  of  wide  repute. 
Selected  and  classified  by  Rev.  J.  B. 
McClure.  Illustrated  with  51  full 
page  engravings  selected  especially  for 
this  work  from  the  great  art  galleries 
of  the  world.  A volume  of  rare 
value  and  interest  to  all  lovers  of  good 
literature.  Reading  matter  528  pages. 


Standard  Publications,  $ 1.00  each,  Cloth. bound. 

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